


The Shape I'm In

by poweredbylouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Boss Louis, Boss/Employee Relationship, Businessman Louis, Cuddling, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Smut, Intern Harry, Interns & Internships, M/M, Oral Sex, Student Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poweredbylouis/pseuds/poweredbylouis
Summary: The boy flushed as he took Louis’s hand. His own hand was a bit sweaty, but he replicated Louis’s firmness well. Louis was hoping for a name so when he didn’t get one, he held onto the boy’s hand and leaned in, prompting him. The boy sputtered in a low tone, “I’m Harry—Harry Styles.”Louis smirked, “Ah, thank you, Harry.” He waited for a moment to see if Harry would bring any insights as to why he was looking so nervous on the executive floor minutes before an essential-personnel-only meeting, but when he didn’t get anything, he asked, “What do you need up here?”Harry’s father gets him an internship at Mallow & Co, where his college roommate and lifetime best friend Zayn’s father is the CEO. Chief Quality Assurance Officer Louis Tomlinson takes a shine to Harry after finding him wandering lost onto the executive floor and gets him caught up in more than one scandal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. No offense is intended to any of the real people depicted in this story. 
> 
> Come say hello on [Tumblr](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/) :)

****Harry was freezing cold. It was summer for God’s sake; it shouldn’t be 30°F. He cranked up the heat in his car, but it didn’t move the stale air. It must be broken. Great.

As he was fiddling with the temperature dials on his console, he missed the skinny city street he was supposed to turn down and when he looked up, he had passed the giant _Mallow & Company _ sign.

He panicked a little, but he also gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to be here. This was his last _free-ish_ summer. Everyone at his business school goes to a summer leadership academy after their sophomore year, and then he would have to get serious about where he wanted to work. But it definitely wouldn’t be here. He wasn’t looking to work for Big Pharma. He was a flaming liberal, so every time his dad condescendingly asked for a “Thank you” for getting Harry this job, hot anger whipped at his chest. He had grown up drinking his tea out of Mallow & Co. mugs, wearing Mallow & Co. jackets, and using Mallow & Co. bags. But that didn’t mean that he owed Mallow his life.

Typically, he was more gracious. A year ago, he would have begged his father to get him a summer job at Mallow, but business school had turned him hard. There was anger constantly eating away at his chest like slow-burning acid. He wanted it to stop, but as much as he twisted away from school and huddled in Zayn’s cooling embrace, it still bubbled under the surface. Zayn had bore the brunt of more than one scary outburst and countless reckless drunken nights on campus.

Harry pulled into a mostly-empty parking lot and swiftly turned around before any city traffic approached from behind him. Harrington wasn’t a huge city, but it could easily get difficult to drive in and Harry was terrible with directions. He was a suburban boy at heart, and he wasn’t interested in changing that.

 _Mallow, Mallow, Mallow._ He reminded himself that he’d be richer when the year was out and promised himself a treat if he could make it through the summer. But once he buzzed into the secure parking lot and saw all of the suits and badges, he promised himself another treat if he could just make it through the first day.

Harry was early. Even though he wanted to roll his eyes at this corporate mumbo jumbo and picture IDs and paperwork, he did everything required of him. He had a fancy leather embossed padfolio stuffed with inky papers. Once he was ushered into a breakfast area beside the lobby, he grabbed a banana and slumped over a table. The go-getters glared at him from the next table. He hated the over-presentation of business school students. They were trained like robots to always be talking and charismatic and personable even though any one thing that slipped out of his mouth could be “a career-stopper”. Harry prefered to keep his mouth shut around corporate soul-suckers.

The tables populated as it got closer to 8am. He was sick with fatigue and a little bit of disgust after he answered countless questions about where he was from, where he went to school, where his parents worked. It didn’t hit him until halfway through the discussion that everyone here was a Mallow Kid. “Summer Apprentice” apparently meant that you had to grow up around Mallow merch. Maybe they thought that Mallow Kids were pre-programmed Big Pharma supporters and easy hires. Harry stifled an eye-roll.

The presentation was dead boring. Two and a half straight hours of powerpoint slides and paperwork. _Ethics. Integrity. If we don’t say this we could be sued._ He busied himself with sorting out how many of the kids in the room were likely carbon copies of their parents. He wondered if he would be tested on the ins and outs of using the hand railings on the stairs. Probably not. It was slightly different than all of the career fairs and info sessions from companies and grad schools at his school, though. Those were all about playing yourself up and getting the job. It felt strange to know that he already had the job, and he felt icky knowing that it was all because of his father.

The last half hour was a campus tour. They squeezed the whole giant group through small concrete sidewalks and brick pathways. They visited the campus gym, WELL, which stood for something cheesy that he couldn’t remember. They spent the entire rest of the time on Mallow history, which could be successfully summed up in about two sentences since the company hadn’t been around for more than fifteen years. However, they insisted on showing the students a $15,000 miniature museum in an old building that commemorated the founding of the company. Harry was not interested in any of it.

He got picked up by his supervisor around noon. Her name was Elizabeth Leeb. She was a thin woman, wearing very tall heels which boosted her to about Harry’s height. She was wearing a black suit which was perfectly tailored to her small figure, and her subtle makeup matched her professional look. Her hair was a sunny yellow with a hint of red, tumbling down in waves. She was pretty, but her face was hollow. Her cheeks look like they’d been carved out with a blunt spoon. The lines branching off from her eyes and puckered lips aged her in a way that made Harry think that she might have once given up her dreams. She had pretty blue eyes, though, and so Harry decided that he would like her.

That is, until she wagged her finger at him in a big intersection and told him not to wander off when a right fit guy walked past in a bright blue suit and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the man’s bum. A dozen people’s eyes glued to him as soon as she started yelling. His cheeks bloomed pink and he couldn’t catch his breath until he saw a dark figure bounding up the hallway towards him.

“Mr. Malik!” Elizabeth said before Harry even got the chance. Harry had almost thought Zayn backed out of the internship. He was the only reason Harry even showed up today. Plus, he never would have gotten an internship after freshman year at Mallow & Company without the help of the CEO’s son. But this presented a strange balance of power. Harry knew something was wrong when their supervisor was calling Zayn “Mr. Malik” and he called her–

“Elizabeth! I haven’t seen you in ages.” He would probably tell Harry later that night that he had never met her before. He threw his arms around her in a friendly hug, and she awkwardly preserved the press of her blazer with a loose squeeze. Harry sneered at her, but she was too busy sucking up to Zayn to notice. She enthusiastically suggested that they go eat lunch at a close cafe, and scampered off, self-aggrandizing how hard she was working for Yaser Malik. Harry rolled his eyes.

The cafeteria was huge and crowded as hell. It looked like an amusement park on a summer weekend. The food stations vaguely reminded him of the mall food court out by his house, but even more it looked like the dining halls he was forced to eat at all through freshman year of college. By the time spring break came around, he was dying for food that wasn’t expired and didn’t taste like cardboard. He hoped Mallow had better food than his school.

Turns out, it did. Or at least he had new options for a while.

He and Zayn sat in the only available table—a small two-seater in the corner by the bathrooms. Zayn told Harry how he executed the best orientation-skipping scheme of this generation. It involved a skateboard and paying his little sister ten bucks to distract his mom.

Zayn had been in Harry’s class at school since Harry could remember. They shared a table in first grade. Zayn had been one of the only people to continuously put up with Harry’s distracted style of learning and goofball puns. They balanced each other out, and somehow they just fit.

Although, it didn’t seem like Harry was fitting in here very well where Zayn was treated like a prince. Every two or three people who walked by caught sight of him and whispered or snickered or asked him if he was the CEO’s son. Zayn brushed it off with charm. Harry wasn't exactly put off by Zayn getting recognized, but it enhanced how out of place he felt. If he were a better friend, he would snicker back at the ladies to their right who had been staring at them for ten minutes.

Harry’s father had told him exactly what to wear and dressed him sharply in a navy suit with a burgundy tie. He patted him on the shoulder in front of the mirror and told him he would fit right in at Mallow’s headquarters. But as he looked around, Harry saw almost no one wearing a jacket. It seemed Mallow was more business casual than strictly business. He felt equally like ditching his jacket and like covering himself up—or hiding away in a supply closet, that could work.

Lunch was over too fast. His breath from the business student infused orientation was over and he had to go get acquainted with his new colleagues. What a joy.

Their supervisor took them up to the second floor where their designated cubicle farm was located and showed them their seats. He and Zayn were sat facing each other through a wall. The walls were short enough that if they stood up, they would be able to see each other, and the walls were thin enough that if Harry kicked it under his desk Zayn would notice. There was a dated PC along with a welcome folder full of papers and a Mallow notebook.

Elizabeth gave them the keys to their desks, and set out the ground rules: “Park wherever you want, ask if you need directions, enter your time honestly, get here by 8am or earlier, and you can leave early if you get here early.” She managed to throw in some flare at Zayn that made Harry want to be sick.

Just as she was turning to leave, an older woman approached with an enthusiastic looking young girl behind her. The woman was dressed in a bright floral print long skirt that reminded Harry of his grandmother, and for a moment he wished that she was his supervisor instead of Elizabeth. The girl was practically bouncing beside her. She had big eyes and blonde hair with a bold pink stripe down the left side, which pleased Harry. He liked to see a bit of outspoken creativity around what he perceived as a corporate shithole. His chest was already clenching with frustration at the bureaucracy of it all.

Elizabeth introduced the other lady as Margaret, Elizabeth’s boss, and the girl as Perrie, another summer intern. Harry hadn’t noticed her at orientation. She seemed immediately taken with Zayn. Perhaps she, like everyone else here, knew who he was and was ready to treat him like the crown prince of Mallow & Company.

Margaret directed her to her desk—right next to Zayn’s. She probably wouldn’t stop staring at him all summer. Margaret gave her a longer and much nicer welcome-to-work spiel, and she was kind enough to tell Zayn and Harry that her cubicle was always open. Zayn rolled his eyes when she left, but Harry appreciated the comment—and the slight humor. He might take her up on having some down-to-earth company around here.

Twenty minutes into setting up his computer, Zayn was already asking him to go exploring. Harry turned him down. He just wanted to get through this summer with his head down, make a few bucks, and not get fired on his first day. Zayn tended to get them in more trouble than he’d like to admit he agreed to. So, Zayn took Perrie instead, and she looked all too delighted to go.

They didn’t get back by the time Elizabeth was stopping by on her way out, telling Harry he could leave for the day. Harry just shook his head, packed up his stuff, and got out of there.

As he was walking out to his car, he got a snap from Zayn of Perrie on the roof. Maybe he wouldn’t be much company this summer.

As he pushed through the cattle gate turnstile, he saw a man that he recognized walking around the bend and down the aisle of cars. When he looked back to cross the lane, Harry caught a glimpse of his slightly scruffy face and remembered that he had been the man who Harry had been distracted by in the hall earlier. Harry had a better view of him this time, though. He was wearing a sharp suit. It was rich blue and complemented by a deep red tie, which had been loosened around his neck. His hair was done up in a swift quiff that curled in the front in a cute swirl. The knobs of his ankles stuck out like two tan road signs advertising that it was officially summer above his shiny dress shoes. Somehow, he gave off an effervescent glow that drew Harry’s eyes to him. Harry wondered what department he worked in or if he always looked like he was in a rush to be somewhere.

He eventually disappeared behind a concrete wall, far too soon because his bum was still distracting Harry and he had walked right past his car. He huffed sadly, deciding that he should have gone up to the roof with Zayn. This was summer after all. And he wasn’t getting any younger. He should take these chances when he gets them. And he should try to not be so angry at people he doesn't even know. Maybe Zayn could help him with that, too.

He drove home in a dejected funk. His mother peppered him with kisses, asking how his day was and the intimate details of everyone he met there. He was amazed at how quickly the sun set when he was at the office for eight hours. He figured he’d need to get up rather early to get in by eight so he was heading to bed when he got a call from Zayn. He picked it up a little reluctantly.

“Hey, man,” Zayn slurred. “M’dad took me out for drinks for the first day. I meant to call earlier, but you can still come down. We’re on, uh, 12th and Woodborough, I think.”

Harry hummed, looking around at his set alarm clock and seductively soft looking bed. “No, thanks. Not tonight.”

Someone whooped in the background, obscuring Zayn’s voice. Harry picked up, “... being a twat. Get out here.”

Harry chuckled. Zayn was clearly drunk and maybe a little angry, but Harry knew the alcohol would wash it away. “I'm just not up for it tonight.”

“S’not high school anymore, Haz. Be wild, get crazy.” He lowered his voice until Harry had to work to sort out the slurred syllables, “I know you like the boys at the club.”

“Zayn!” Harry chastised.

Zayn almost growled into the phone. “Look, mate. You’re not gonna hold up in your room all summer. You gotta get outta here. You gotta get _laid!_ ”

It had been a mutual secret for many years that Harry had not yet properly fucked a boy. Up until college, he hadn't done much of anything, but freshman year was a rowdy time at house parties and off-campus clubs that had Zayn cleaning him up afterwards. “I don’t know, man…”

Loud music distorted Zayn’s indignant sound. Then Harry heard him say, “I know you want to. Just because you’re only into guys doesn’t mean it’s any less fun to mess around, Harry.”

“What? Did did you already snag Perrie?”

“No… I’m saving her for a rainy day.” Harry tried to reserve his discontent with Zayn’s attitude towards her. “But I’m serious, Harry. There’s gotta be someone in the city for you. And we have three months! If you don’t wanna just shag there’s plenty of time for a _summer romance_.” Harry could see his patent suggestive eyebrow waggle through the phone.

Harry smirked. He wasn’t signing up for Zayn’s quest, but he said, “I’ll give it a shot.” Zayn shouted out happily, mixing into the loud voices on the other line. “I’m not going to try very hard, though, ok? I’ll, like, go out.”

“Friday?” Day after tomorrow? Harry wasn’t exactly ready to set a date. “Friday it is! Gotta go, see you at work tomorrow.” The call disconnected.

All at once Harry was agreeing to get fucked. For the first time. He practically felt like Zayn was going to watch.

As he laid down on his stomach, he thought about how it would go. He’d probably meet a nice guy who would ask him to dance, and they’d talk and whisper to each other. The guy would have a nice stylish apartment and they’d go back to his and kiss gently and he’d touch Harry’s face.

Harry found himself wiggling his hips down against his mattress. He was starting to get hard. He flipped over onto his back and slipped his hand into his boxers. His breath hitched as he got a hand around himself.

In his fantasy, said nameless guy was pulling him onto the bed and ghosting hands all over his body, coaxing his clothes off. He pulled Harry's boxers off and the guy’s lips connected with his cock like a magnet. He kissed and licked, and _shit_ —Harry was already so turned on.

He stroked down quickly and then back up slowly, pressing into the spot just below the head as he was imagining the faceless guy holding there and swirling around the tip of his cock. _Fuck_ , he was close.

He clenched his abs to look down at where his hand was moving, and he imagined the guy taking more and more until his mouth was full and he was choking on Harry’s cock. He kind of wanted to try that himself. He’d given blowjobs before, but he’d never _choked_. This guy was taking it like a pro, though, a fantasy guy.

Harry turned his head to stifle a moan against his pillow, but an unsuccessful frustrated grunt came out. He didn’t want to be too loud. His parents were probably still awake, and it was a risky move in the first place.

He felt the pleasure building in his stomach, and he grabbed tightly around the base of his cock to keep from coming, wanting to extend the fantasy.

That was when a face appeared on the fantasy guy. Suddenly, he was the guy with the bum who Harry had seen in the parking garage. He had a swirly quiff and a sultry smile and he was licking up Harry’s length with a wide press of his tongue.

Harry didn’t want to hold back anymore. He was so close already that he lost all finesse and started stroking quickly and somewhat noisily. It was when he imagined the mystery man giving him particularly sexy eyes and pressing down just below his balls that he lost it and came right into his boxers. It shook him, spreading like lightning into his fingers and toes.

He struggled to pull his boxers off his floppy legs, feeling pleasure-infused throughout his whole body. He threw them toward his laundry hamper and dozed off with the pleasant thought of getting thoroughly fucked.

———————————————

The second day didn't start off much better than the first. He spent the day running around delivering papers for Elizabeth in a big group of buildings for which he didn’t have a map. He learned, though, with a little help from asking people when he was hopelessly lost and a lot of following signs, that there were ten buildings in Mallow Headquarters. Each of them had a number—one through ten, easy enough. He worked in building five. If he went down the stairs by his department, through the closest revolving door and over a small bridge which overlooked the cafeteria he ate in yesterday, he got to building six. Building seven was on the other side of building six. The hard part was all of the buildings were connected, and they didn't look like separate buildings. He could walk across a seam in the shiny decorative tile floor and he would be in an entirely different building.

But he was successful—or mostly successful, he left one of the papers in a tray next to a sign with a name that didn’t quite match. He was making his way back to his department when he saw Zayn heading out on another run and waved.

How could she possibly have this many documents to send by hand. Didn’t they have email at Mallow? Elizabeth had said something about confidential information when she had handed him the first stack, but wasn’t it a bad idea to give confidential documents to a brand new intern who couldn’t figure out which building he was in? At least Zayn knew where he was going—he practically grew up skipping down these wide corporate hallways.

Elizabeth called at him, “Oh, Harry! I forgot this one in the last run. You wouldn’t mind sending it up to the twelfth of seven, would you? It would be such a help. I’m swamped here.” She shoved a thick packet into his hand.

“Sure,” Harry said, slumping off to find whatever _twelfth of seven_ meant. Probably the twelfth floor of building seven, right? He was too afraid to ask.

Ok so… down the stairs on the left. Then past two halls on the right. He could see the cafeteria below him. That looked right. Then there was an elevator bank next to a fancy-looking portrait of Robert Mallow. He pressed up to floor twelve. The elevator jerked to a stop and he got out.

Wow, this floor was much nicer than his area. The first thing he saw was a wall of windows behind an arrangement of fancy couches. He walked up to the unblemished glass and looked out over the city.

From up here, Harrington looked like a garden of steel. Everything was shining in the bright light, illuminating the white walls and the floor. He pressed closer, trying not to leave a warm breath mark on the glass. Below him was the vast expanse of the Mallow Headquarters. The central buildings were close enough together that he couldn’t see most of them from up here, but he could see Mallow gym and it’s track and field, the sizeable lake, and the little river that encircled the central buildings like a moat. Then way over on the edge, there was a smattering of buildings beyond the thicket surrounding the river. Those must be the satellite groupings. His dad worked in manufacturing on the northeast edge of campus. Beyond that was the city. It looked like it went on forever, even though he couldn’t see past the mountainous spires of the skyscrapers. They were so tall that they poked at the clouds.

 _Click, click_ sounded on the tile behind him, and he jerked around. He was met with an instantly familiar face, one that made him flush down to his neck with embarrassment. It was the guy from the garage.

When Harry had jerked off to him last night he was _sure_ he’d never see him again. Mallow was _huge_. What were the odds that he’d run into him again?

He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark grey suit, and his bony ankles were exposed just like yesterday. Harry placed him in his mid-twenties. There was something light colored on his tie like a smear of some sort, which sort of assured Harry that he wasn’t some executive. _Executives weren’t allowed to have mustard-stained ties, right?_

Harry’s heart sped up. He couldn’t believe they were this close. He felt equal parts embarrassment about getting off to him and desire for him to take him to bed. That thought made his cheeks burn hotter, which wasn’t helped by the man’s taken aback look.

The man quickly swept it off his face and an endearing smile emerged. He walked straight up to Harry and offered him his hand, “Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis had a delicate face with strong features. Dark hair shadowed his jaw and swept across his forehead. Today his hair was done in a windswept style across his face, looking a lot more relaxed than it was yesterday. His eyes were bright blue, the sunlight from the windows making them gleam prettily.

After schooling his expression to be sure that he wasn’t looking as guilty as he felt, he mustered up the effort to close the space between them and shake Louis’s hand. He clasped Harry’s hand firmly, but not too firmly—perfectly firmly. He must have studied handshakes in school. He made to let go, but Louis kept holding on, shaking and leaning in like he wanted to hear something from Harry. _Oh!_ “I’m Harry—Harry Styles.”

“Ah, thank you, Harry.”

———————————————

The clock ticked on Louis’s office wall. He had forty six minutes before his meeting. It’d be no use to go over his presentation again, and he’d gotten past the point of reciting the whole thing twenty times before he gave it. If he stumbled, he’d pick himself up. It was no big deal.

He clicked open a new tab and ventured to Facebook. Technically Mallow prohibited personal social networking during work hours, but seeing as Louis was Chief Quality Assurance Officer, he didn’t really care seeing as no one would dare stop him.

He kicked his feet up under his desk until they were propped against a smooth wood plank, stretching his legs and twisting his ankles in wide circles.

The first post he came across was Vanity Fair article about French food—no thanks. Then his old classmate had posted a photo of his new son. Louis grazed over the caption, saw the words “welcome to this world”, and kept scrolling. Then there was another baby picture. _Was that the same baby?_ It was a different one.

Eventually he got into a rhythm. Every time he got to a loved-up baby picture, he would scroll past it really fast, like the sheer volume of posts wasn't a reminder that his life wasn't moving along as fast as he'd hoped.

Unlike all of the young parents on his Facebook feed, Louis was still going out to bars every weekend, which was easy to do when you were the youngest executive in the company, but he was nearing thirty. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't going to be able to keep this up forever. Someday a younger executive would pop up and take away his office and his seat at the bar, and with it would go the wonderment of onlookers—a prodigal businessman. The Louis Tomlinson.

Facebook became nothing but vaguely depressing baby pictures, so he put his laptop to sleep. The screen blacked out and he was faced with a stained tie. Shit. He knew that mustard didn’t come all the way out. He scrubbed at it with his fingers. It wasn’t that bad, right? He certainly couldn’t go to his meeting without a tie on. He let out a short frustrated sigh.

He left the tie alone and got up from his desk, pushing open the door of his office and meandering out past the other executive offices. Everyone was prepping for the merger meeting. Sophia was getting coffee. He shot her a, “Morning, Soph,” as he passed and pushed out into the lobby area of the executive floor. And— _oh!_

There was a lanky boy topped with a fluff of dark curly hair pressed up against the windows. The boy spun around and Louis was faced with the endearingly surprised and slightly frightened expression of someone who must be a brand new employee—certainly one who was lost on the executive floor.

His curly hair fell down over his forehead in a styled swoop and framed his face like a Shirley Temple doll, shining in the sunlight. Ruddy cheeks and emerald eyes, the line of his nose and the sharp cut of his jaw seemed all too perfect. Louis had to steady his breath. Upon a second pass, he saw that the boy was clutching a paper against his sport coat.

Louis shook off his surprise and strutted over to Harry with a smile, offering his hand. “Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

The boy flushed as he took Louis’s hand. His own hand was a bit sweaty, but he replicated Louis’s firmness well. Louis was hoping for a name so when he didn’t get one, he held onto the boy’s hand and leaned in, prompting him. The boy sputtered in a low tone, “I’m Harry—Harry Styles.”

Louis smirked, “Ah, thank you, Harry.” He waited for a moment to see if Harry would bring any insights as to why he was looking so nervous on the executive floor minutes before an essential-personnel-only meeting, but when he didn’t get anything, he asked, “What do you need up here?”

“Oh!” Harry shoved a paper at him. “I’m here to deliver this. My boss told me it’s a document for—uh, for some people on the twelfth of seven.” His voice raised at the end like he wasn’t sure if he was correct, which Louis found terribly endearing.

He took the paper from Harry and flipped through it quickly. There was a confidential stamp on it, and Louis wondered if Harry knew that he was handing off this document to one of the only people who was allowed to read it. The header on the second page said _Financial Office_. He hummed. This was Liam’s business, but he didn’t mind taking Harry down to financial.

He looked up from the paper to see Harry’s wide eyes surveying him. His expression only reinforced Louis’s theory that he was new—very new. “Wanna come with me? I can help you get to twelfth of seven.” Harry’s head bobbled in a nod, and Louis smiled at him.  

Harry followed him to the elevators, and as they waited for one to arrive at the top floor, Harry asked, “What does twelfth of seven mean?”

Louis looked back at where Harry was standing behind him, closer to his shoulder than any regular employee—who could undoubtedly rattle off that Louis William Tomlinson, twenty eight year old Chief Quality Assurance Officer of Mallow & Company, Forbes’s number one most innovative pharmaceutical giant, had moved into his new role just over six months ago from a quality director position—would dare to stand.

But even Harry’s unwavering eye contact and the heavy breaths on Louis’s suit didn’t bother him—they made him want to get Harry alone.

Louis smiled widely, assuring him of his abnormal behavior, and smoothly rattled off, “Twelfth of seven means the twelfth floor of building seven. You’re on the twelfth floor of building six.” Louis left out the part about this being the executive floor. He didn’t want to embarrass Harry.

“Oh…” Harry drawled. “So, like I work on second of five?” His voice bounced around in the elevator vault, reminding Louis that he hadn’t heard a voice that chipper in days.

The corner elevator dinged. “You work in quality development.” Louis half-asked half-stated. Louis prided himself on knowing all of the departments by location, and on a campus where half the battle is getting to your cubicle, he was always a friendly face and a helping hand. Although, that was when he started. Recently, he’s been barking orders more than he’s been helping maneuver guests.

Harry blushed, “Yeah. I just started. My supervisor is Elizabeth Leeb.” The elevator dinged at the eleventh floor and Louis held the door open for Harry. Harry sauntered out in front of him and Louis led him to the hall to building seven.

“Oh…” Louis knew Elizabeth. Word around the executive floor was that she was gunning for Louis’s job. She had worked in quality with Louis for just a few days before she was moved into quality development. She had been placed there per the request of more than one executive to stunt her upward mobility. From what Louis had seen of her, she wasn’t much of a threat. Her people skills alone were enough to convince Louis that he was miles ahead of her. “I should hook you up with an HR complaint person straightaway.”

Harry giggled. He actually _giggled_ . It was like effervescent chimes in Louis’s ears. “Well you know how she is—probably wouldn’t like HR getting involved.” Harry batted his thick lashes at Louis. “But I can tell _you_ all my complaints.”

Something about Harry was soft and sparkling—warm. He had a way about him that ate through Louis’s practiced layers of poised politeness and calculated malevolence. It took Louis right out of his expensive italian oxfords and reminded him of who he was before he had chosen this life.

They arrived at twelfth of seven and  Louis knocked on the padded cubicle wall of an older woman, decked out in elephant jewelry. “Hey, Nora. This is Harry. He’s in quality development.”

Harry offered her his hand and she shook it. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Harry said.

“You, too, Harry. I’m Nora, head of the forecasting department.” Her bright red lips stretched into a sweet smile. “So, what can I do for you today? I don’t get a lot of visits from Louis,” she added, pinching his arm.

Harry didn’t say anything at first, and Louis cheekily bumped his hip against Harry’s. He sputtered, “I’m here to give you a document from my boss. She said it should go to twelfth of six.”

Louis jumped in, “Twelfth of seven, he means.”

“Yes. He’s right, I’m sorry. Twelfth of seven.” Louis saw Harry’s cheeks heat up again.

“Thank you. Lizzie did say she was sending something up.” Nora eyed the confidential document, sorting it into one of her tall piles with ease. “Louis is right quite often,” she remarked. “Maybe you can teach him a thing or two about being wrong once in awhile.” She winked a bright blue eyelid at Harry, making his eyes dart up to Louis with a tight frown.

Louis gave his head a small shake and thanked Nora, leading Harry out. “I can take you back to second of five.”

Harry glanced a smile up at Louis and said, “Yeah, sure.”

It was far too quick of a walk back to Harry’s area, and then he was leaving Harry at his desk alone with some stupid parting remark he couldn’t even remember. He wanted to hit himself over the head for letting his chest flutter. Just thinking about Harry batting his eyelashes like a geisha made him want to do terribly unprofessional things. And as much as he wanted to forget Harry and his mythological beauty, regain his persona and carry on with his work, he wanted just the same to run back to Harry just to get another glimpse of his face or hear a lilt in his voice.

He remembered Harry’s face marred with flushed confusion, looking up at him for approval after Nora’s unwarranted comment as he made the trip back up to the executive floor, back into his oxfords.

Over the next two hours in his meeting and another three after that, Louis couldn't think about anything other than Harry. He drummed his fingers against his desk, surveying his to-do list. Everything was too dull and tedious, waiting on dozens of replies from faceless email addresses. Nothing was as exciting as the fluttering in his stomach.

He was supposed to be delegating and organizing the confidential acquisition of Titan, an Italian pharmaceutical research company. Yaser had visited Titan on some diplomatic rounds a few years back and now they were deep in the middle of a merger. Louis was in charge of the quality assessment. He had to make sure Titan was good enough to acquire, that there wouldn’t be any future liabilities, and that they would prove profitable for Mallow. The problem was that Mallow already assessed Titan’s quality and signed off on it. Louis has to go through this whole process again all because his predecessor was fired for tampering with a different project. Legal had Titan’s quality check reordered on the slightest suspicion that he could have possibly tampered with the assessment. Louis had not yet come across any indication of dirty business, which was great because the pens were poised to sign and they were all waiting on him. The stress of getting this all done while running his departments and keeping the merger a secret was beginning to weigh on him.

Which he was just forgetting before—“Louis!”

Louis spun around on his heel, trying to mask his guilty grimace at getting caught leaving early. Oh, it was just Liam. Louis turned on his charm smile, the more natural one. “Hey, mate.”

Liam tapped his toe from where he was posed against the reception desk. “You taking off for the day?”

“Yeah, I’m just not in a good groove today,” Louis admitted.

As much as Liam would like to think so, he didn’t scare Louis. Liam liked to think that he scared everyone, but Louis always had a leg up on him. Though, it helped that they were best mates and roommates up until a few weeks ago when Liam moved in with Sophia.

“How’s the M Project going?” he asked, popping a peanut into his mouth from a bowl on the desk. That was their stupid code for the merger. Yaser, the brains of Mallow, couldn’t come up with something more inconspicuous than _the M Project_ . They might as well call it _The Merger With Titan_ in big shiny red letters.

Louis sighed and shrugged, saying, “It kinda sucks. It’s a lot of straightening out communications and checking and double checking and _explaining_ to people why we’re double checking, but keeping it all a secret. I want to go to Marge for this, but my M Project team is totally different than my usual direct reports.”

“Oh, man,” Liam laughed around another peanut. “You need to get out this weekend.”

Louis groaned. “Ugh, don’t take me to Nick’s again.” He appreciated Liam’s standard attempts to spend time with him, especially now that he wasn’t living with him, but they were just that—standard, predictable. They’d gone to Nick’s Bar so many times that Nick himself knew their drink orders.

Liam hummed in contemplation. “Well, James told me Yaser invited him to this club, but he couldn’t go this weekend.” Yaser was quite the partier and somehow still a family man and _World’s Best CEO_. “He said all you have to do is name drop Malik and you’re in.”

Louis narrowed his eyes. Yaser-recommended clubs were always short lived and left him in a whirlwind of colorful alcohols, strange hook-ups, and catastrophic hangovers. He also once led Louis’s entourage to a cat cafe on a saturday night. Louis drew out, “ _Maybe_ …”

“I heard this one’s not all that bad. I read about it in some rag—seemed pretty fun.” Louis didn’t budge, and Liam turned to more convincing, “C’mon, we’ll go on Friday. Let’s be non-committal, alright? You need a post-work shag and you’ll still have your weekend.”

Louis held up his briefcase in kidding defiance. “And how do you know I want to pull?”

“You _always_ pull! God, go on home and have a wank in the meantime.” Louis was not at all bothered that his best friend was so involved with his penis. In fact, that was one of Liam’s tamer comments.

Louis turned to leave, and heard Liam shouting into Greg’s open office, “Louis needs a shag so we’re going out tomorrow!” He felt shame blooming at his cheeks. As much as he loved Liam and Greg and didn’t mind them knowing that, there were other people on this floor, albeit few, who definitely could hear Liam shouting.

He shook it off on his twelve-floor elevator ride, praying that he could just get home and sleep for a while. Maybe he could finish off that bottle of wine he had opened. Maybe he could answer some emails. He had so much to do recently that he was jumping on any changing of the wind that made him feel productive, which consequently meant that his apartment was a mess, and he’d twice decided to buy new underwear over doing laundry. Good thing his suits were dry cleaned.

When he reached the bottom floor, he stepped out and across the hallway to get to the door outside. The weather was nice today; he might as well walk outside. It would help him breathe to be away from the starchiness of Mallow hallways, whispering reminders to him of every email he had to send and every meeting that was approaching too quickly.

Before he could get into the revolving door, though, he spotted a flustered and frustrated-looking familiar face pushing inside through the same door he was planning to exit through. As much time as he had spent thinking about Harry, he hadn’t at all expected to see him again today.

His face softened when he saw Louis, like he was some kind of savior. “Louis!” Harry ran straight up to Louis and hugged him, long arms wrapping right around Louis’s stomach with dexterous agility and squeezing his designer suit. Curly tendrils stood up from Harry’s head, brushing against Louis’s mouth as Louis turned his head into Harry.

A few disaster scenarios ran through Louis’s head, but none of them seemed to apply. He wasn’t visibly bleeding and no one else seemed particularly moved. He was mystified as to why this beautiful boy that he had thought about all afternoon was suddenly hugging him in the middle of the Building Six lobby.

“Thank God,” Harry said against Louis’s collar.

Louis hummed, hoping it would prompt an answer to the few dozen questions he had.

Harry exhaled in a rush and let go of Louis, babbling. Louis listened intently with furrowed brows. “I’ve been all over the campus. I don’t have a damn map for this place. I think I accidentally got into a restricted section. Do you have a restricted library here? But no, I’m talking about chemicals. Like, there were these shelves and shelves of test tubes and I should have had a hazmat suit on there were so many chemicals. And I didn’t know where I was but that sure as hell wasn’t where I parked my car so I bolted.”

Harry was still looking flustered, but now there was also an embarrassed contentment and relieved confidence in his voice. Louis cracked a smile.

“That’s where I just came from, and I just—I need to find my car.”

“Oh,” Louis laughed sympathetically. “Sorry, yeah, this place is a bit complicated.”

“Complicated? I’ve been in circles. Up and down. All around. I sound like Doctor fucking Seuss, but I have and I can’t find my car,” he whined, lips settling into a sad little pout that had Louis cooing at him.

“Don’t worry. It’s ok,” Louis said, unfamiliar with his own voice. He didn’t say things like that. He wasn’t the reassurance man. He was the cold hard facts guy. But for some reason he guided Harry towards the doors with a light hand on his back, comforting, “It’ll be ok. I’ll make sure you get a map, but for now I can take you to your car… if you like?”

Harry beamed at him in a toothy grin, “Yes, please.”

Louis led them through the revolving door and out into the grassy center of campus. “Maybe Elizabeth can get some heat, too, yeah? For not giving you a map.”

Harry giggled, just like he had earlier, sounding utterly delighted at whatever was coming out of Louis’s mouth. He didn’t even know what he was saying, but he sure did know that it made Harry laugh, so he kept going on, “Lord knows I’d love for her to bear the consequences of messing with her employees. You know she once told and admin assistant to fuck off and wrote in his performance review that he didn’t get her the right milk to mocha ratio in her morning coffee.”

“Oh no,” Harry said around chuckles. “I wish you could just take me away.” Louis choked on his breath. “I could make myself useful. I’d do anything to get away from Elizabeth.”

Louis glanced a smile at Harry. He looked utterly stunning under the sunlight, his eyes lighting up even brighter than they had from the windows upstairs. “Sounds good to me,” Louis breathed out, hoping the fondness wasn’t plain on his face.

Harry was looking a little too eager about having Louis as his boss in place of Elizabeth, so he shifted the conversation. “Have you seen this before?” he asked, gesturing out toward the gym and track.

Harry sped up in front of him. “Just a bit on a tour. I can’t believe you have a gym _and_ a track.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice for an early morning workout. They’ve got good yoga classes, too.”

Louis watched him ill-advisedly cross a patch of grass and dance his way onto the tartan, arms wide as he basked in the sunlight.

“You gonna go for a run?” Louis followed recklessly over the grass after him.

“Maybe,” Harry taunted, poising himself with feet apart, ready to take off sprinting down the straightaway.

Louis approached him, laughing, and used a gentle hand to guide him toward the garage. He was surprised at how easily Harry followed, body pilant to Louis’s direction. He led him into the tall garage and up to his car, insisting that he not leave Harry to get lost again.

They stood for entirely too long making jokes about bad bosses against Harry’s car until Louis unsubtly hinted, “You think you’ll get lost on your way in tomorrow?”

Harry’s mouth melted into a smug pout, then formed around the words, “I’m not sure. Though, you seem like a good GPS.”

Louis’s lips quirked as he fished his phone out of his bag. “Put your number in, lost puppy.”

Harry tapped his number into Louis’s phone, leaving a smiling kitten and strawberry emoji following his name. He called his phone for Louis’s number.

“Just text if you find yourself surrounded by strange chemicals again.”

“Will do,” Harry said, slipping into his car. He gave Louis a sweet smile and rolled down his window to ask, “See you tomorrow?”

Louis tapped on the roof twice, failing to stifle his grin, “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched Harry drive off, and stifled a delighted giggle into his hand. The flutter he had started to snuff out this morning had grown into a kaleidoscope of butterflies in his stomach, worsening excitedly at the thought of seeing Harry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/) and reblog the [fic post](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/post/176519845870/the-shape-im-in-by-poweredbylouis-explicit-30k) if you like


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis run into each other a few times

Harry made it to Mallow parking garage the next morning, taking a good look around the campus and then choosing to cross back over the grass where he had come from the afternoon before. Two security guards and a young guy yelled at him to get off the grass, leaving him shaken up until he spotted the yeller and promptly gave him the finger.

Zayn was standing across the field with a messenger bag slung around his shoulder, hands deep in his pockets. He had his glasses on today, resting low on his nose, and his hair was mussed on the side. Once Harry reached him, he slung an arm around his hips, leaning onto him.

“Y’alright?” Harry asked as Zayn clung tighter.

Long fingers wiggled into Harry’s side, making him squirm as they walked toward the main building in stride. Once he calmed, a whisper found Harry’s ear, “I’m not feeling it today.”

One of those days. Harry never really knew what caused them. Maybe Zayn just woke up feeling shit, but something told Harry that there was something else behind it. Zayn would lean on Harry. Sometimes it meant a whole day in bed watching TV. A couple times he cried. Harry never asked much after Zayn spat, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He always got over it the next day, back to being the charismatic CEO’s son that he had to be.

Harry wrapped his arm behind Zayn’s back and trudged up the steps, thinking that this day was already set out to be lousy.

When they got up to Second of Five with a little direction from Zayn, Elizabeth was screaming. “Gerald, I told you this a million times! You can never get me the right order!”

They rounded the the corner in time to see her dunk a full cup of coffee in the garbage, round on Gerald and storm off. Gerald, dumpy guy that he was, stood in the kitchenette with a clipboard and a bluetooth, scanning the surrounding stares, looking like he was about to shit his pants.

Harry stepped forward without though and enveloped Gerald in a big hug. He looked a bit surprised at first, but a moment in, he relaxed, hit Harry on the back a couple of times, and chuckled as Harry softly said, “Right bitch, isn’t she?”

Harry could feel Zayn’s presence—just far enough away as to not alarm Gerald, but attached. When he stepped back, Zayn seized his forearm.

With a hand cautiously cupped around his mouth, Gerald muttered, “Yeah, she’s a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry said with a small eyeroll and a glimmering smile that he knew would erase Gerald’s visions of looming eyes on him.

Zayn pulled him away and back into their cubicles, Harry catching a glimpse of a smile from Gerald as he wandered away. Even though his hand was seared to Harry’s arm, Zayn gave him a warm smile that told Harry he was proud.

After an awkward hour of checking morning emails and tiptoeing around Elizabeth, Harry pulled Zayn up to ask her for work. Zayn stood too close behind him, almost cowering as Harry asked in a small voice for anything she wanted them to do.

She snarled up at them, “No. Can’t you see I’m swamped. Just—go away. Go explore. Go somewhere else. I’ll get you when I need you.”

That was reason enough for them to find their way into the concourse—connecting halls underneath the buildings. They wandered far enough away so that they couldn’t hear Elizabeth’s screaming at Gerald, and spotted a small coffee shop.

It was built into the hallway with the actual supply of coffee on the left and a few tables in a nook to the right, as to not get in the way of the power walking suits of course.

Harry peered up at the menu, rolling his bottom lip between two fingers.

“Hiya, guys!” Harry looked up to see a guy in a red apron smiling like a sunbeam behind the counter. “What can I get for you today?”

“Um, can I get an Americano, please?”

“Sure.” He turned to Zayn. “And what can I get for you?”

Zayn aptly leaned on the counter, looking like he was snapping out of his funk. He dawdled with the candy sticks by the register and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Niall,” he said, practically bouncing up on his heels. He offered Zayn an energetic hand and shook it so fast that Harry wondered how many shots of espresso Niall had already had this morning.

“I’m Zayn. So, Niall, what do you recommend?”

Zayn’s eyes widened as he watched Niall bounce around, pointing, ticking things off on his fingers, talking way too fast about too many drinks and not giving a damn that a line was forming behind them. Zayn just listened to Niall go off on a tangent about someone ordering a drink this morning with seven modifications—“more modifications than ingredients”.

Once Niall ran out of breath, Zayn said, “Well, I was feeling a bit ill this morning. Need a bit of a kick. Got anything for that?”

“I think espresso would get you kicking.” Niall darted over to the espresso machine.

Zayn _liked_ him. Harry could tell because Zayn wasn’t one to spare a genuine smile on anyone that didn’t deserve it.

A minute later, Harry had his Americano and Niall set an espresso drink down in front of Zayn, saying, “Espressly for you,” which made Zayn’s eyes crinkle as Niall let out a snorty laugh.

They got a table across the hall and Zayn sat facing the barista, watching him bounce along the coffee machines for the next customer.

“Hey,” Harry bumped Zayn’s eyes away from Niall. “He seems nice, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Zayn took a sip of his drink, shying away from the heat. “I like a guy who doesn’t start bowing as soon as I start talking.”

“I didn’t know you enjoyed _paying_ for coffee.”

“Not today.” Zayn looked away from Harry. “Dad had another mood swing. He told me I have to start shaping up. I’m an embarrassment. I’m not good enough for our family. Too reckless. Too—”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled. “But he took you out for drinks on your first day.”

“Yeah, well I guess that’s my fault, too.” Zayn sighed into his coffee cup. “Might be nice to forget I’m a Malik for a while.”

Harry was floored. He’d never really understood Zayn’s “off days” but this certainly put things into perspective. His own father wasn’t a peach, but Zayn’s dad made his look like the sugar plum fairy. Harry had never really thought too hard about what would be expected of Zayn from his father or how soon it would take effect. Now the idea of him sitting in the CEO’s suite seemed more real than ever.

“Wanna talk about something else?” Harry offered, more chipper than he actually felt.

“Please.”

“I met someone.”

That piqued Zayn’s interest. “Who?”

“Well…” Harry smiled, remembering Louis in all of his glory yesterday. “I met him when I was delivering papers yesterday. I wound up on the wrong floor and he helped me figure out where I was. Then, like fate, he caught me after I gotten turned around and ran around the whole campus looking for my car and helped me find my way then, too which—Shit.”

He forgot to use Louis’s magic GPS knowledge this morning. Harry said he would text and he didn’t. Louis must think he’s daft or a dick or not interested.

“What’s wrong?”

“He gave me his number yesterday in case I got lost again this morning—”

Zayn sipped with sarcasm, “ _Sure_ , in case you got _lost_.”

“But then I found you and I forgot to call him and he probably thinks I’m an ass.”

Zayn flicked Harry’s hand. “He doesn’t think you’re an ass. He probably wasn’t expecting a call so soon anyway. Just call later or, does he have your number, too?” Harry nodded. “You could wait for him to call.”

Harry’s breathing returned to a normal pace, “Ok, yeah, thanks. I _do_ want to call, I just forgot this morning.”

“What did you say his name is?”

“Louis,” Harry sighed happily, dreamily remembering his bright blue eyes.

Zayn smirked at him. “You got heart eyes, Haz.” Harry blushed. “So, what’s he like?”

Harry started rambling, describing Louis in detail from his swirly quiff in the parking garage to the schmear on his tie. He spent at least five minutes on his eyes and two on his ankles, making more than one embarrassing comparison to David Bowie. By the time he was finished his coffee was cold and Zayn looked both bored and delighted.

“Fuck, you’re gone for him,” Zayn said, finishing off his drink.

Harry didn’t get a chance to redeem himself before Elizabeth was storming up to them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two!” An ugly vein bulging on her forehead looked like it actually might burst. Even her louboutins looked angry. “This is a big company, you can’t just run off, there are places you’re not supposed to be.” Harry looked around at the other Mallow employees at the open coffee shop in the hallway. It didn’t seem like a place he wasn’t supposed to be.

Zayn openly rolled his eyes at her. Harry was ready to piss his pants, even though she had explicitly said to “Go explore.”

She ushered them off, unnecessarily drawing the attention of dozens more employees on the concourse. Harry’s face was beat red with embarrassment. He just hoped Louis wasn’t wandering these halls this morning or he really would wet his pants.

————————————————————

Louis would very much like this meeting to be over.

It was pointless in the first place seeing as Yaser cancelled at the last minute—probably due to another wicked hangover, which Louis wasn’t unfamiliar with just not in the place of his own merger meeting.

Liam had insisted on meeting still. Louis clenched his jaw. Liam could be a right dick sometimes. He tried to remind himself that Liam was just doing his job—doing it well, too.

Liam caught his eye as he was speaking, and Louis gave him a tense smile and a short nod, earning a small sigh from Liam that he somehow played off in his presentation.

His area was under control—ahead of schedule even. He didn’t understand why he had to—

Wait, was that Harry?

He had just glimpsed a curly boy venturing into his office. _What?_ Surely, his administrative assistant would kick him out before Louis got out of this wretched meeting. He desperately wanted to pop in on Harry, though.

He hadn’t called or texted since Louis had given him his number yesterday. He wasn’t expecting him to. Louis wouldn’t have called by now. But something about Harry was so intriguing that Louis was desperate to see him again.

He spent the rest of the meeting glazed-over and tuned-out, thinking about Harry’s lips and his hair.

After Liam dismissed the meeting, he meandered over to Louis, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder and whispering quietly from behind him, “If you keep spacing out in meetings, you’re going to lose your rep, Tomlinson.”

Louis was ready to quip back a biting reply, but the implications of that hit him harder than he’d expected. He couldn’t lose his charmer rep or his fashionable rep or his charitable rep, but he could lose his diligent businessman rep. He had worked tirelessly for years to get here and he wasn’t about to lose his ambition. He had his eye on something bigger, even. Liam was right, he admitted to himself reluctantly.

Liam was gone by the time he unfroze from that frightening thought.

His mind was still itching with it when he arrived at his office a moment later, faced with Harry’s bored expression staring as blankly at his computer screen as Louis had stared at Liam. He pulled open the glass door slowly, feeling bad about having to boot Harry from his desk. But then he got an idea, and decided that it wasn’t a career-breaker, so he might as well have fun with it while Harry was there.

Harry looked up at him with delighted surprise, one earbud dangling from his hand.

Louis tapped his fancy pen against the back of the quilted leather couch facing Harry. “Mind if I have a sit? I’ve got a bit of work to get done.”

“Be my guest,” Harry offered, eyes still sparkling. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle at Harry offering Louis to be _his_ guest.

He wanted to ask him about his day. If he made it in alright. How the hell he ended up on the executive floor two days in a row. But he also wanted to play it cool and not accidentally reveal that Harry was sitting in his desk chair.

Luckily, he had a pretty clear schedule for the rest of the day. He worked through three bullets on his list, spread out on the couch and coffee table, before he found himself unable to look away from Harry’s distracted gaze.

He was probably doing training to prevent a thousand things he’s not even capable of doing as an intern. Harry seemed more interested in Louis’s desk implements.

Before Harry could find his monogrammed pens, Louis broke the silence. “How’s your training?” he asked, stretching his arms behind his back.

Harry gave a flat eye roll. “Boring.” Louis made a mental note to tell Sophia. He was sure she would be delighted to hear the most credible and relatable feedback he’s ever heard about her work.

“Why are you doing training up here anyway?” Louis lounged back on the couch like a happy cat.

“My supervisor told me to stay up here while she was in a meeting.” Louis didn’t see why he couldn’t have just stayed at his desk.

“Ah, good old Liz.”

Harry gave an annoyed look. Louis counted three of those in the past minute. He didn’t seem to be enjoying Mallow much. Maybe Louis could balance the scales.

“Glad you came up here, though. Glad to see you.” Harry’s smile was brighter than the afternoon sun streaming in his wide windows.

“Found my way in this morning.”

Louis shrugged coolly, “Figured.”

“Had a good teacher,” he beamed.

“Found your way in _here_ , too,” Louis pointed out, rising from the couch and straightening his tie.

“It was empty.” Harry shrugged like he couldn’t have possibly done anything differently, which endeared Louis. He made it seem like fate, which Louis quite liked if it meant fate wanted him to see Harry.

Louis walked up behind his own desk, reaching across Harry’s laptop to grab a clipped stack of documents. “Here they are.” He could have left out the embellishment, but it helped Harry connect the dots.

His eyes widened, looking shocked and a little terrified. “Is this _your_ office?”

Louis grinned. “That’s what the plaque on the door says.”

“Oh my God, I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry. I can make myself scarce.” Harry shut his laptop and started scrambling, but Louis puts a hand on top of his stuff to keep him from taking off.

“I’m not mad,” Louis said, sinking to his knees to get level with Harry. Under normal circumstances, he would never kneel in front of an intern, especially in these pants, but nothing about this even verged on normal.

Harry raised his hand like a pledge to Louis. “I didn’t know, honest.”

Louis chuckled, finding himself closer and closer to Harry. “I believe you.”

“Sure?” Harry worried, all sparkly eyes and pink cheeks.

“Yes,” Louis nodded, and kept nodding as Harry mirrored him, inching closer. Louis surged forward, surprising himself a little, and meeting Harry’s soft lips.

It was even better than he had imagined. Harry was soft everywhere, not as if Louis could have imagined anything less. It was chaste and too short. He wanted to properly snog Harry, but even behind his office door, that could be a true career-breaker.

When he pulled away, Harry’s eyes were glued to his lips. They were probably a bit chapped, and Harry hadn’t even experienced the full effect with just a closed-mouth kiss, but he certainly seemed interested in them.

“I’ve got a glass door,” Louis pointed out, hoping Harry would understand that his colleagues could walk in at any moment.

“Right.” Harry was more breathless than Louis had expected, like he hadn’t taken a breath in minutes. His eyes were all glassy. He looked so young that Louis wouldn’t have been surprised to find him sporting a stiffy. “Louis?”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

Louis’s brows pulled together. He didn’t know how to feel about that question. He was _young_ —certainly and certifiably young. But he was probably older than Harry. Maybe significantly, which would make him feel ancient. And he didn’t want to make himself feel any older than the babies on his Facebook feed did. “Does it matter?”

Harry turned that over in his head for a moment before pursing his lips cutely. “No. Will you kiss me again?”

Louis laughed. Harry was both simply adorable and unattainably gorgeous. “Of course.” Louis let himself put a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. Their lips danced around each other, coming in slower this time.

Their kiss felt like sunshine. Louis’s chest filled with nervous excitement. He felt like Harry might actually be _something_. Not just a pretty boy for a day or a nighttime conquest.

Louis pulled away when he heard something in the hall outside his door.

Harry’s hair was mussed in the back from Louis’s handiwork, looking a bit of a mess when Elizabeth stormed into Louis’s office. Louis stifled an eye roll and a frustrated grunt. _Yaser_ didn’t even storm into his office.

“There you are! I’m sorry Mr. Tomlinson, he’s been running off all day.” Louis ignored her ignoring Mallow’s first-name policy, and he highly doubted Harry had been _running off all day_. “Harry this is Mr. Tomlinson, Director of Quality Assurance.”

“Chief Officer,” he corrected her as Harry laughed. He pulled on his bottom lip, and Louis ached to kiss him again.

Elizabeth waved off her mistake disrespectfully, and yanked Harry out of his office before they could even glance goodbye.

Louis was fuming with heat for Harry and hate for Elizabeth enough that he immediately opened the anonymous complaint HR page. He frustratedly closed his laptop when he found that his complaint didn’t fit any of the checkbox categories.

By end of day, he hadn’t found it in him to concentrate on his work again. He had pulled out his phone to text Harry three times, even tapped something out the last time, but always decided against it in the end. He had also taken another look at the complaint page, but made no progress.

He stopped by Liam’s office on his way out, tapping on the wood frame. Liam was happier to see him than Louis expected. “Hey, bro? Still up for going out tonight?”

“Oh,” Louis said, rubbing his forehead. He forgot about that. He’d been preoccupied with Harry. Wasn’t the whole point of going out tonight to shag some random guy? He really didn’t feel up for that anymore. “I kinda met someone, and I don’t know about going out now.”

“Oh, ok.” Liam closed his laptop, and leaned back in his chair, focusing all of his attention on Louis. “It’s ok if you don’t want to go. I mean, we could just make it a guys’ night, too, if you want.”

Louis shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He didn’t want to ignore Liam, he’d just rather spend his friday with Harry or thinking about Harry. Really, anything that had to do with Harry.

“So, who’s this bloke then?”

Louis lit up, moving closer to tell Liam, “He’s absolutely adorable. His name is Harry. He’s new. He made his way up here yesterday accidentally, and I helped him find his way to his car. He’s got this great curly hair. It’s shiny and soft and—”

Liam wrinkled his nose. “You touched his hair?”

“Uh—” Louis didn’t want to tell Liam that they had been kissing in his office. “No, I just meant it looks really soft. Anyway, he’s got this really, really cute smile, and he’s really fit, Li. You’ve got to see him.”

“Got a picture?” Louis thinks he’s probably not as interested as he appears to be, but Louis will definitely take the chance to gush about Harry.

“No…” He hadn’t even looked him up on Facebook. How unlike Louis to not internet stalk a guy he was interested in. Liam opened his laptop and started typing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling up the employee database.”

“Oh, duh,” Louis said, rounding his desk to look at Harry’s identification photo. Louis pointed to the second to last Harry on the first page. “Styles, yeah.” He looked kind of miserable in his photo, but Louis’s memories of his smile and soft lips far overpowered his still-adorable pout in this picture.

Liam narrowed his eyes and peered at Louis. “Is this Elizabeth’s new guy?”

“Yeah.” Louis pointed to the Supervisor category. “Look, it says ‘Elizabeth Leeb’.”  

“Um, yeah. She talked about him in our meeting today.”

Louis’s was confused because Liam still looked like he knew something Louis didn’t. “Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“She said her new _interns_ were doing fine.”

“What?!” Harry is an _intern_? Louis pulled the computer toward him until he could see his classification. SUMMER INTERN started right back at him. “Shit.”

Liam was laughing hysterically at him. He only slowed his laughter when Liam hit him on the arm. He calmed himself enough to think of one more thing. “Oh, check—haha, check his birthdate.”

Louis didn’t want to look. He shoved the computer back to Liam. “You check it.”

Liam wiped his wet eyes enough to focus on the screen. “He’s uh… sev—” Louis’s breath caught in his throat. They didn’t do anything illegal. “No, eighteen.”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered, “Fuck.” He was so young. Louis was young but Harry was a baby. _He could be Louis’s baby._ No, he was _too_ young. That’s why he was so cute. He was out of Louis’s age bracket.

Liam was still laughing at him as he said, “You’re 28 so he’s… ten years younger than you. And what’s your half-your-age-plus-seven rule? Like 21? You can date as _young_ as 21. So he’s even three years younger than that.”

Louis imagined Harry writing in a diary and playing with G.I. Joe dolls. He was older than that, right? “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

Louis was going to have to pull his typical bullshit—ignoring, ignoring, and more ignoring. He only did that with guys who thought they had more claim to him than he liked or thought he was more interested than he was. But Harry was so cute. Louis really didn’t want to give him up. He had spent most of yesterday toying with his contact and wanting to touch his hair. He had imagined lounging with him and spooning him and fucking him—the sex would have been so great. Louis had to remind himself that just because he was barely legal didn’t mean that it was right.

“How do you feel about going out now?” Liam asked with an amused smirk.

“Please, please, please get me out of here. I’m gonna need a fuck—a good one.”

“With a grown adult?” Louis didn’t answer, thinking of how grown Harry actually was. He didn’t actually know him that well, but he had really wanted to get to know him. “Well, thank God. I can’t spend another Friday night with Soph’s wine club.”

Louis was going to say something actually nice but his mind was too full of things he wished he didn’t want and didn’t know. “We’re gonna need to get the gang back together.”

Liam smiled, clearly excited. Phone in hand, he said, “I’m on it.”

—————————————————————

Louis was drunk long before midnight. He’d been drinking steadily since they’d gotten to this club. Actually, he’d started drinking at Liam’s long before the night had started.

This one of Yaser’s suggestions seemed startlingly normal. It was a rather large maze of rooms, which the group of half a dozen businessmen had yet to explore. Name-dropping Malik had gotten them a VIP room, but Louis hadn’t explored it yet. They also hadn’t seen Yaser himself which was a relief to Louis. At this level of intoxication, he would probably say something that would make Yaser either hate him or like him way too much.

Currently, Louis had something in his hand that tasted sweet on his tongue but like fire in his throat. He was sitting on a plush couch with Liam on one side and a proper fit young guy on the other side. They were cheering on Aiden and Max, who had jumped up on a pedestal and were dancing with a couple of dancers—a guy and a girl—who were both scantily clad.

The girl fisted Aiden’s shirt and pulled him in for a deep kiss, which filled Aiden’s eyes with both  surprise and happiness. Seeing the other couple, the guy dancer pulled in Max for a kiss the same way. Max seemed even more surprised, most of the crowd in this small room yelping. Louis yelped louder than the rest, knowing what the guy didn’t—Max was engaged to a woman. Max played along with the guy, mirroring Aiden and the girl, much to the disapproval of Liam.

The fit guy next to Louis got his attention by tapping on his shoulder and then promptly pulled him in for a wet kiss. Louis felt a little bad that he couldn’t quite get the muscles in his face to kiss as well as he wanted to, but the guy seemed happy to be kissing him nonetheless. He felt mostly like colorful buzzing, which was all he could see when he opened his eyes.

The guy was really encouraging. He pulled them off the couch and helped Louis get up with Max and Aiden. He jumped up as well, pulling his shirt off and dancing up with Louis. He must have also taken Louis’s drink because he was empty handed now. Or he was just free to let his hands roam.

The music ratcheted up in tempo, the colorful strobes following, until Louis was moving with the guy, with Aiden, with Max. His eyes were mostly closed, and he was just moving with the music, with the bodies around him. He got kissed again and this time was softer than the last. When he pulled away, it was Aiden’s eyes staring back at him. Louis threw his head back and giggled, sounding like champagne bubbles against the rhythm in the music. He couldn’t see Liam on the floor anymore.

The music subsided a little and Louis could feel something buzzing on his ass. It took him a minute to figure out that his phone was ringing. He calmed the boys’ disappointed groans as he jumped off the stage, miraculously into Liam’s safe grip. Liam looked only slightly angry with him, which was a good sign.

He picked up his phone, plugging his ear, “Hello?”

Louis heard his name in what seemed like barely a whisper against the music. He scrambled to get to the dark doorway just past Liam, hoping it would be significantly quieter. “Sorry, can’t hear you.”

“Louis?” The voice became clearer, and it became clear to Louis, even in his drunken stupor, that it was Harry on the other end.

All thoughts of his conversation with Liam this afternoon flew out of his head, and his main goal tonight switched from hooking up with _anyone_ to hooking up with Harry. “Harry,” he almost whined. “Where are you? I want to see you.”

“Er, me and Zayn were wondering if you had a good place.”

“Come here.”

“Where’s ‘here’?”

Louis had to concentrate very hard to remember how they got here. “Go to 5th and Eisenhower. I can’t remember what it’s called. Just tell the bouncer you’re with the Maliks.”

“ _Okay_.” There was anxiety in Harry’s voice.  

“‘S across from that store.” Louis could see it in his head, but his articulation was sub-par at the moment.

“Are you drunk?” Harry sounded not very happy about Louis being so obviously drunk, which prompted Louis’s reply.

“No. I just want to see you. Please come ‘ere. You can hear it outside.”

“Alright, we’re actually pretty close to there. We’ll drop in.”

“Come see me, Harry. Promise.”

“I promise.”

The line was dead, and Louis was in a pitch black room, the music booming on the opposite side of the wall. He reached out for purchase, but found a velvety curtain. When he pulled it aside, two women yelped. It looked as if one had been helping the other try on lingerie.

Louis echoed their yelp and turned around sharply, calling out, “Liam?”

An arm reached through another black curtain and pulled him through. Liam was there in his red plaid looking like a dad, which both comforted and put off Louis.

He had forgotten about the call by the time Liam sat him down on the couch and the fit guy from before was there, suddenly nibbling on his neck.

—————————————————————

Within a minute of being in the club, Harry’s got a drink in his hand in the Malik’s private lounge. Zayn pulled Harry by the elbow off of the velvet couch that he had been petting and off into a connecting room. The music was softer there than on the dancefloor, and the whole room looked like a small fluorescent museum. Harry couldn’t quite see what was on display, though, until he got nose-to-nose with a slim blue vibrator.

“Whoa.” He hadn’t been drinking too much but the atmosphere in this club put off his center of balance and depth perception.

Zayn laughed at him. He pulled him away from that one, towards another display, whispering, “I guess this is a new kind of sex shop.”

Harry was more enamored than he wanted to admit by the collection of glass dildos. One in particular caught Harry’s eye. It was pink-tinted and expanded into a heart at the end. Zayn caught his eye and raised his eyebrows suggestively, which was a sign to Harry that he needed to get out of this room. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The bathrooms were fairly large, but still seemingly private. They were clean and there were a few comfy-looking chairs near the door, which Harry found himself sitting in after he cleaned up. He took out his phone, wondering if Louis had texted him since their call.

No luck. How was he even supposed to find Louis in this place?

Just as he was locking his phone and getting ready to go back to Zayn, the bathroom door opened and none other than Louis himself stumbled in.

He fell all over Harry on the chair, arms wide for a hug. “Harry!”

Harry laughed awkwardly. “Hi, Louis. You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, oh yeah.” Louis grinned up at him from Harry’s knees. He was absolutely disheveled. He was wearing a black muscle tee, showing off some impressive definition in his shoulders and arms that Harry hadn’t before seen. His fringe was simply swept to one side, less styled than it had been at work, but now a little dewy with sweat and mussed from whatever Louis had been doing. His eyes were glassy but still vibrantly blue under the more stable white bathroom light, and he was beaming up at Harry.

He slinked up Harry’s body steadying himself against the chair and Harry’s bicep. “Your hair is so pretty,” he said, almost against Harry’s mouth. He shifted his weight to Harry’s chest, and Harry flinched to grab his back so he wouldn’t slide down and fall. Louis pet at Harry’s hair. He looked like he was getting off to threading his fingers through the curls, although Harry was fairly certain Louis wasn’t sober enough to get off to anything right now.

Harry spread his legs enough for Louis’s knees to find the tiles, though he sunk down just enough for his lips to reach only as high as Harry’s chest. Harry’s heart sank a little, he had been a little excited to get a sloppy drunk kiss from Louis.

Louis squirmed between his legs, and looked almost as if he was going to still and fall asleep there until he wriggled down further. He knelt properly on the tile and bent down enough to get his mouth right over Harry’s jeans zipper. At first it was chaste and exploratory, pressing his cheek and then his lips over Harry’s semi-hard denim-covered cock. But it quickly became dirtier as he brought his hand up to rub along with his mouthing.

Harry could hardly believe this was happening. A few hours ago, Zayn had been lecturing him about hooking up with some guy, and Harry had just been gushing about Louis, replaying their office kiss over and over in his head. He couldn’t believe it was Louis’s fluff of hair between his legs, Louis’s hand pulling on his zipper, Louis’s mouth on his cock.  

It was Louis’s voice that came out to say, “Are you hard for me?” in a now breathy, but sultry timbre. Harry felt himself stiffening further, straining in his seat. He nodded fervently as Louis looked up at him with a mischievous grin, lips only millimeters from his bare cock.

Harry shivered with pleasure as Louis sunk his mouth down around him. Harry’s hand dropped to Louis’s soft feathery hair, trying not to pull or push. He whined, eyes clenched closed, breathing heavily. When he looked back down at Louis, his eyes were clear and dark, looking back at Harry daringly. Harry almost couldn’t stand the sight of Louis’s perfect lips, long tongue, wetly working around Harry’s cock.

Louis added a hand, pulling from the base while his mouth worked the tip of Harry’s cock, and Harry could _not_ stand that. He was gone in three strokes, seeing colors on the ceiling and grunting outright.

Louis was still looking mischievous as he slithered up Harry’s body. He pressed a few closed-mouth kisses on Harry’s jaw, his cheek, before unleashing a cum-sticky kiss on his lips. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have gagged, but Louis made it seem playful and reverent.

Harry was just about to say something about thanking God no one had walked in when the door was pushed open and someone Harry vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway. Louis scrambled over Harry, moving between the two, seemingly hiding Harry. Harry took this opportunity to discreetly zip up his trousers.

The guy raised his hand in angry disbelief at Louis.

“Liam! It was just kissing, promise.” Harry saw Louis had crossed two fingers and was deftly holding them behind his back, in Harry’s line of sight. “It’s fine. I’m drunk. It’s fine.”

“Jesus Louis!” Liam ushered him out of the bathroom, but not before he could shoot Harry a cute drunken smile.

Harry fell back onto the chair, breathing hard, in utter disbelief that Louis and this night were real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/) and reblog the [fic post](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/post/176519845870/the-shape-im-in-by-poweredbylouis-explicit-30k) if you like


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis tries to recover from last night

 

Harry woke up to his phone ringing, but in the midst of his sleepy brain causing him to trip over his charger and launch his phone across the room, he missed the call. That sudden moving around caused his head to spin dull pressurized pain, aching with the sharp remnants of last night’s buzz. The thought of his heady feeling last night quickly reminded him of his bathroom activities with Louis and he stifled an excited squeal. He scooped up his phone and—oh! It was Louis who called, and there was a voicemail. 

“Hey, Harry. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for like—sucking you off in a club bathroom last night. I really—I wasn’t in my own head last night. I understand if you don’t want to see me, but I’d like to take you to lunch if you do—if you want to. Sorry, I—maybe I shouldn’t have called. You probably don’t want to see me. I’m sorry.” And that was it. He replayed it again and then searched around his phone to see if there was any more of the message. The ending seemed awfully abrupt. 

He had to say something because he _ did  _ want to go to lunch with Louis. Should he call? Or text? He tapped back and forth between the apps three times before choosing a text, “Where do you want to meet?” and sent it. 

Louis’s texting bubble immediately popped up, and then went away. It popped up again and a new message came through. “Petit Chou at 4th and New York. I’m buying.” 

Harry was already in his car before he realized that they never really set a time.

He rolled the front windows all the way down and blasted his newest summer jam—today it was Gwen Stefani. The highway blew his hair into a wild mess, but he didn’t care because the wind on his face felt like it was recharging him. Every nerve ending on his body was soaking up the sun. He was breathing in the music and the air… and maybe some fumes from that truck that just flew past him. He felt absolutely invigorated.

That was until his mind got wrapped around Louis’s apologies. He couldn’t stop hearing “ _ I’m sorry _ .” He was sorry he gotten Harry off in the bathroom? He didn’t seem so sorry last night. He had been much more… enthusiastic. Harry pulled into the restaurant, and shook his hair back into place. For as much as he had ruffled it last night before he went to see Louis, he didn’t have to do much after that wind-infused car ride to make it presentable. 

When he got out of his car, he found Louis propped up against his BMW in the next row. He was chewing on his thumbnail and looking intently at his phone. In stark contrast to how worried he looked, he had one bare ankle casually crossed over the other. His hair was feathered over his face in no particular style. He looked so completely separate from his business life in this moment, even more so than at the club. He looked like he could take his pups for a walk and do nice normal domestic things. Harry’s devilish brain wandered to doing those things with Louis. He snapped himself out of it, and called out, “Louis.” 

Louis’s head snapped up and his eyes softened at Harry’s smile. He returned it with a small quirk of his lips but didn’t let himself smile. He walked up to Harry and immediately said, “I’m so sorry, Harry. Liam told me not to—” 

“What?” 

“I—” Louis dropped his gaze to Harry’s chest. He was wearing the same stinky shirt from last night. He had forgotten to change in the rush to get over. “Did you not change?” 

“Oh. I guess not. Sorry, I probably smell really bad.” 

“No, you don’t,” he rushed. “You smell—uh...,” he caught himself and paused. “Let’s just get inside.” 

Harry followed Louis under an arch of roses and through a set of heavy dark wood doors. Louis made quick work of getting a table. He was speaking in rapid French, almost unidentifiable to Harry. But he snapped and pointed at the host and Harry knew what that meant. He grabbed Louis’s arm from behind him and said, “Hey,” keeping him from thrusting his finger at the scared-looking wait staff. “Stop that.” 

Louis shot him a confused look, and Harry just turned back to the host and said, “What’s the problem?”

“Eh,” the host stuttered along in a strong French accent, “we only have tables pour deux _outdoors_.” 

Harry shrugged, and said, “That’s fine.” He turned to Louis and raised his eyebrows. “That’s fine, right?” 

Louis rubbed at his brow bone with his fingers stretched across his whole face, hiding his eyes, and muttered, “Yeah.” 

When the hostess laid down menus in front of them and smiled too nicely for how he’d just been treated, Louis’s cheeks flushed and he covered his face, feigning a pain. “God, that—I’m sorry.” 

Harry opened his menu and clanked it against the table. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” 

Louis leaned his head onto his balled up fist and rubbed gingerly at his eye. He shrugged off his sweatshirt and draped it over the back of his chair. Harry tried not to be too obvious about watching him over his menu, but he couldn't concentrate on the food items, which was partially because he was trying not to stare at Louis and partially because it was all in French. It was pretty, though. There was a different pale flower accompanying each delicious plate of French food. 

“Harry,” Louis caught his attention. “Would you stop pretending to read that?” 

Harry shut his menu dramatically and set it down on the table with a swoosh that sent Louis’s hair flying up over his forehead like individual feathers. He rushed to fix his fringe, and Harry grinned at how cute and boyish he looked.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated. 

“Stop apologizing.”

“I got way too drunk last night. I never would have—” He glanced down at the table and chewed his lip, looking glum. 

“Lou, did you hear me? You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted you to. I was a little surprised is all, but I wanted you to.” 

“Oh,” he sighed, looking relieved and leaning back in his wicker chair. “I know we were kind of doing this thing, and I don’t want to lose that, but I understand if you don’t want to keep that going.” 

Harry grinned. He quite liked Louis calling what they had  _ a thing _ . He made it sound so real, almost tangible. “I do, though,” he offered. “I like you quite a lot, and I don’t mind moving quickly.”

“ _ You _ want to move quickly?” he questioned. 

“Uh,” Harry bit his lip into his mouth. “Yeah.” He could feel heat spreading on his face. He felt like he was offering his body up for the taking, but he would gladly do so for Louis. 

Harry leaned forward and searched Harry face. He said in a very small voice, “What are you up to, Styles?” 

“Nothing,” Harry said innocently, using the menu to block his face from Louis’s scrutiny as his face flushed even further. 

Louis laughed and tried to bat the menu away just as their server approached. “Bonjour, je m’appelle Melanie.” From the very limited French that Harry knew from movies and cheesy quotes, he understood that she had just introduced herself. 

Louis turned to her and rattled off a quip in French that Harry did not understand. He placed a gentle hand over Louis's arm as a reminder of his earlier behavior. The server looked a little scared, but she smiled at Harry. They were shooting French back and forth at each other, but she was writing on her pad and Louis wasn’t pointing so Harry decided it was civil. When she walked away, Harry asked what he told her. 

“I ordered some things for you to try,” Louis said, grinning and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, no,” Harry huffed, dramatically rolling his eyes. 

“It’ll be good, I promise,” Louis added. 

Some of it was good. Some of it was snails, which Harry decided he didn’t like after Louis plugged his nose for him while he choked one down. Above all, he appreciated the beautiful plating. He came to appreciate the soft colors of the flowers and the little dog that belonged to the woman at the table across from theirs. She was wearing a dress that looked ungodly expensive, and Harry was whispering to Louis about how the dog must feel. 

That’s when it came out that Harry wants a kitten. “You know it’ll become a cat, right? An old, lazy, fat cat.”

Harry feigned insult and flicked a pea at Louis. “My kitten will always be the cutest kitten in the world. He will never grow up and he will always be my kitten,” Harry declared.

Louis smiled sweetly at him in fond admiration with a little bit of the soft pink floating around in the air now dancing on his cheeks. 

Twenty minutes later, Louis was telling Harry, “I thought you were out of college—like a new employee, _ not _ an intern.” 

“So?” The word curled off Harry's tongue. 

“Well… I felt pretty bad when I found out I’d been flirting with an intern.” 

Harry scoffed. “You kissed an intern. Ha,” Harry humorously slapped the table. “You blew an intern! What a dog, Tomlinson.”

“Oh my God,” Louis blushed a smile. “Stop, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” 

Harry leaned forward like he was going to tell him a secret. “Will you kiss me again?” 

“‘Course I will,” Louis said, picking at a snail. “If you want me to.” 

“I don’t believe you, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry batted his eyes and pouted at him.

Louis shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I only give kisses to the best interns,” he teased. 

Harry huffed an annoyed squeak. “So what do I have to do to be the best intern?” 

Louis looked up at him through his eyelashes with sultry eyes. “You have to earn it.” 

Harry didn’t know how they got here, but his cock was perking up at this fancy French restaurant in the middle of downtown, and he didn’t know what to do about it so, naturally, he whimpered. 

“ _ Harry! _ ” Louis chastised, “That’s not what good interns do,” which made a more gutteral sound bubble up from Harry’s throat. 

Harry had to get a hold on himself. He was an adult, dammit. An adult who could play this game, too. He mustered up his most sultry voice and fluttered his eyelashes, saying, “Why don’t you show me how to be a good intern?” 

Louis prodded at Harry’s shin under the table, and whispered, “Want to get out of here?” Harry sputtered where he was sipping his pink lemonade. “We can go to mine. It’s just a few blocks from here.”

Harry probably nodded a bit too enthusiastically in response, but for some reason Louis smiled at him so he counted it as a win.

———

Harry followed Louis back to his apartment, and the only reason he didn’t get lost in the city was because it really was just a few blocks from the restaurant. Louis’s building wasn’t huge—Harry counted only six stories—but it was beautiful from what Harry could see so far. 

It was twice the height of the building to its left and a tad shorter than the building to its right, which left a fair slice of the sky peeking out beside the brick siding and cast an elegant shadow across the large mulled windows that covered the front of the building. Harry thought could stare at the white marble façade for hours, which made him even more excited to see what it was like inside. 

After an awkward but brief look from the doorman, Louis directed Harry to an elevator where he had to use his key to get up to the fifth floor. 

“Ok,” Louis chuckled. “It's kinda big…” Just as Harry thought Louis was going to launch into an explanation, the elevator doors opened directly into his apartment.

Harry was faced with a wide expanse of exposed brick. The scene was cast in dramatic light filtering in through the south windows. Louis dropped his keys on the table and showed Harry to where the light was coming from. 

Louis slid his hands into his front pockets as he said, “I didn’t always have this place to myself. My old roommate just moved in with his girlfriend, so I guess I’m trying to figure out if it’s too big for me.” 

Beyond the wide hall, it opened up into a room afire with sunlight. The far wall was bright white, like the building’s façade, with three large windows set into it. Several healthy-looking potted plants dotted the windowsills. The two adjacent walls were made of exposed red brick that looked almost golden in the light. He had a perfect assortment of dark browns where the hardwood floor met the dark furniture and plush seating. There was a splash of modernism in a sharp-angled lamp in the corner balanced with the soft edges of the end tables. A geometric patterned mossy green rug set apart the living area from the casual wood dining table, which led into the open kitchen. 

Harry was absolutely stunned. He had only ever seen a place like this in his dreams and while surfing interior design sights. His own house looked like a 1970s nightmare compared to this. 

Harry spotted a shelf of CDs taller than himself and ran over to Louis’s anthology. He pressed his nose up against the long line of dark cases. He had quite an odd mix of music, but it was overwhelmingly dominated by classic rock. Fleetwood Mac, early Beatles, Elton John, Kenny Rogers, Adele. Melodies flitted behind Harry’s eyes. 

Louis chuckled behind him. “That’s more of the guest collection there. I’ve got others in my room.”

Harry’s lips pulled into a smile. “You’ll have to show me.” He turned back to Louis with a Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors in hand. “You’ve got a player for these then?” 

Louis walked up to him, the rubber soles of his Vans thumping on the hardwood rather than clicking like his dress shoes on the tile at work. He brushed his fingers over Harry’s on top of the case, and looked into his eyes a touch longer than considered casual before turning to pop the CD into a player mounted beside his TV on a dark wood stand. 

“Can you go to track 7?” Harry requested as Louis fiddled with the buttons. 

The corner surround sound speakers startled into low kick drum beats, and Louis flicked the volume higher until he could hear the high plucks of guitar strings. 

Louis spied Harry mouthing along to the lyrics as he peered out the window,  _ “Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise.” _ His plump lips pulled out the words like taffy, perfectly meeting he harmony. The song picked up quickly, Harry’s head bobbing along. 

Louis slipped in next to Harry's side where he seemed to be communing with Stevie Nicks and folded his hands in front of himself. “Big Fleetwood Mac fan?” Louis asked. 

Harry giggled, holding a hand to his stomach. “Maybe,” he drawled, holding on to the vowel. “You've got a beautiful view.”

“Yeah, it's great.” 

Louis reached down to pull a waxy succulent spire between his fingers, flinching away from the painfully obvious thorns. Something about Harry staring at his windows in awe made him terrified that he was going to say something that made him seem not cool or too old. 

He was sweating—actually physically sweating—a lot. Not even the highest-powered business meeting made him sweat like this. Yaser freaking Malik didn't make him sweat like this. He pinched his hoodie away from his chest and stepped out of the sunny spot in front of the windows.

Harry made a half-turn, singing out to Louis, “Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night.” His voice soared over Stevie’s melody, timed out impeccably to the beat of the kick drum. It was clear that Harry knew this song well—he didn't miss a single beat.

He smiled and stepped into the shade with Louis, reaching down and grabbing Louis's hand. “Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies.” He put some flare on D’s, flashing his big white teeth, making Louis chuckle. 

He held Louis's other hand and swung them together as the guitar strummed through its lick. Harry threw his head back, singing “Break the silence…” Louis felt his hands squeeze like he could feel Harry’s chest clenching. When his eyes came back to Louis's, he raised his voice, “Damn the dark, damn the light.” His cheeks raised so high with his smile that they hid his eyes in happy crinkles. 

Harry bobbed his head up and down as the tempo picked up, moving their clasped hands in jerky shapes. He swayed his hips along to the chorus, Louis following in a reserved almost-dance. 

As the music picked up, Harry raised their hands and then they were pulling each other back and forth, almost jumping on the beat. On the guitar solo, Harry picked up his footwork, and it didn't look like any dance Louis knew but he did it with him. Louis was still sweating, jumping in the sun with no desire for shade because Harry could barely sing,  _ “Chain, keep us together,” _ over his bubbly giggles.

Louis echoed his laugh, singing, “Running in the shadows.”

They repeated the lines with the song until it faded out and Harry's fast feet and erratic movements slowed into nothing but glimmering eyes and a radiant smile. 

Harry flopped down on the couch with his legs kicking off over the armrest. He tried to speak around throaty laughter, “Yes, I'm a big Fleetwood Mac fan.” 

Louis rounded the couch, sitting down next to Harry’s head as his laughter calmed. Small pants of warm breath tumbled out of Harry's mouth as Louis tried to steady his own breathing. 

“That was fun,” Harry said, twisting until he was leaning back on the arm of the couch, angled toward Louis with one foot tucked underneath him. 

Louis sighed happily, his eyes drifting over Harry's warm smile. Despite himself, he felt his heart rate pick up to a nervous tempo again. “Do you want something to drink?” he stammered. 

“Ye-es,” Harry sing-songed with his arms flung out in Oprah-style excitement. “What have you got?” 

Louis rattled off his usual guest drink menu, omitting the alcohols, “I've got coffee, tea, water, sparkling water, grape juice, apple juice, cran-grape juice, a bit of coke, iced teas, lemonade--”

Harry cut him off, “Whoa! I can't decide from that many, surprise me.” 

“Alright then.” Without thinking, Louis patted Harry's knee once and then pushed up off the couch for drinks. 

He returned to the couch with two tall and heavy matching glasses. He put one glass down on the dark cherry wood table, eyeing where Harry's head was thrown back, lips ghosting around the words to track 8—You Make Loving Fun. The long line of Harry's throat was exposed from his sharp arrow jaw all the way down to where his collarbones spread out like butterfly wings across his chest.  

Harry lifted his head when he heard the dull thud of glass on the coaster. “Thanks,” he said, making his neck muscles flex in a way that caused a delicious looking dip to appear, which Louis shamefully wanted to lick. “What is it?”

Louis pointed at his and then Harry's drink to say, “Passion fruit and guava.”

“Ooh, you've got the fancy juice.” Harry grabbed his glass and sipped, trying it out. He sipped again and swished the juice around his mouth before swallowing and smacking his lips together. “Can I try yours?” 

“Yeah,” Louis offered, holding out his glass as he resumed his place on the couch. “They're pretty similar, I think.”

Louis rubbed the pad of his thumb over the etched design in Harry's glass as Harry sipped on his drink. Harry closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth, which would have seemed less appealing if the passion fruit juice didn't make his raspberry red lips shine. 

Louis pulled his stare away from Harry's mouth when he opened his sparkly eyes to say, “This one’s sweeter.” Louis wished he'd gotten them white wine instead because he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to take Harry like this.

Louis held Harry's glass back out to him, and Harry took another sip of Louis's juice before returning it. 

“Do you like it then?” Louis asked, sipping gently along the rim that Harry had left wet. 

“Mmmm,” Harry hummed in affirmation. “I've never had these exotic juices before.”

“At my house you can have all the exotic juices you want,” Louis said, sipping on his drink. Then Harry watched him practically choke as he realized his innuendo. He held his hands up as Harry eyed him, laughing lowly. “That's not what I meant! I mean--”

Louis watched Harry put his juice down and scoot closer. “What do you mean?” Louis was losing it. He was really, actually losing it for this teenager. 

Just when he thought he saw Harry reaching out to put his hand on Louis's thigh, a floof of dark fur darted into the living room, skidding with its nails on the hardwood. Harry jumped, and as his body turned towards the sound, he dug his fingers into the muscle of Louis's upper thigh, making him bite down on his knuckle out of Harry's sight. 

As soon as Harry spotted the fur ball again as it darted across the room, he bounced up excitedly and ran after it. “Awwwww!” Harry cooed, capturing the kitten in his arms on the floor. He sat down beside the TV and rubbed its little fuzzy head. 

Louis let out a small sigh that was tainted with strong frustration. He didn't think this cat was going to cock block him. 

“What's its name?” Harry asked as it rubbed it's tiny pink nose against his hand, making Harry giggle. 

“Bear—she’s Liam’s. I’m pet sitting. Apparently Sophia’s dogs aren’t adjusting well to Liam’s presence and Bear wasn’t helping.” Louis watched as Bear swished her tail back and forth against Harry's leg and leaned into his light scratches and long pets. 

She was a dark brown tabby cat, short stripes flowing down her back to black fur, with vibrant teal eyes. She was fluffier near her back end and tail where she seemed to have more fur than was necessary to cover her small frame. 

“She's so cute!” Harry declared, picking her up and cradling her like a baby between his chest and cheek. 

Louis laughed dryly, remembering all the terror she had caused. “She pissed in my bed the other day,” Louis said, sipping on his drink. 

“She's so pretty.” Harry touched the tip of his nose to where she was sniffing him, putting an extra lilt in his voice to say, “Such a pretty girl, yes you are.”

Louis rolled his eyes fondly. “She's a nightmare.”

Harry kept talking to the cat, babbling, “Such a pretty nightmare. Pissing in Louis's bed, running all around the house, I bet you don't even sleep. Just go around being a pretty nightmare all the time.”

Louis couldn't seem to follow Harry's eyes to look at Bear. He was stuck where Harry's big hand was cradling Bears butt, where his back was curved over to get level with the her on the floor, where his fingers were splayed into her fur, and where his eyes were gazing down at her like she was some kind of impossible ball of magic. 

“What's the story behind her name?” Harry asked, standing slowly with Bear cradled against his chest. He came back over to the couch and plopped down beside Louis, letting Bear roam between them. “I've never heard of a cat named Bear.”

Louis scratched under her chin and over her head as she curled up on his lap. “She's feisty. She's got a meow like the neighbors’ dog. She's fast as a bobcat, but she's not clumsy. She’s really smart. She's bigger than her size, bigger than herself. And Liam liked Bear better than Dog.” 

“Are you a dog person?” Harry shifted closer to pet Bear’s back where she was looking drowsy on top of Louis. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I grew up with a border collie. I do like Bear, though she can make quite a mess.”

Harry’s hand rubbed against Bear’s chin and pushed into the inner seam of Louis's pants. “Well, she's young. She needs a lot of attention.” Louis tried not to think about what that meant about Harry. “It's an investment, you know?”

Louis nodded, watching Harry's eyes catch on his mouth. Louis vaguely registered Fleetwood Mac’s pop beat, singing,  _ I don't want to know the reasons why I love you,  _ behind the buzzing in his ears. 

Louis leaned toward where Harry's head was resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow on the back of the couch. His hand was still mindlessly smoothing down Bear’s back but she was dozing off, and his eyes were on Louis.  

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed, searching Harry's huge open eyes. 

Louis hesitated. Louis  _ knew _ he was good at kissing. He'd been told he was good at kissing, everything from the initiation to the follow through. But somehow everything seemed a little harder to put together with Harry, like he was learning how to do it all over again. This wasn't like kissing a one night stand. He'd never kissed someone who danced so vivaciously to Fleetwood Mac, and who he wanted to dance with again. He had to think about how to kiss Harry. 

Despite the little drop in his stomach that came after his proposal at the thought of Harry rejecting him, Harry nodded, slowly batting his eyelashes down to Louis's lips and back up again. When he leaned in, Louis knew exactly how he wanted to kiss him. 

Louis leaned in close slowly until the air was still save his breath ghosting over Harry’s lips. His dopey smile had melted into loose lips dropped open and doe eyes locked on Louis’s mouth. “Are you sure?” Louis whispered. 

Harry tilted his chin up enough that Louis though he would dip it back down in a wobbly bobble headed nod, but instead before Louis knew it, he was breathing out in harsh waves against Louis’s face, “Just kiss me already.” 

Louis leaned forward and pressed his lips into Harry’s, pressing gently and hesitantly until Harry pressed back with rough urgency. Harry’s eager lips pressed hard against Louis’s until Louis opened his mouth. Harry took the lead too seriously, too long, and too rough, but it was perfect. He fell onto him and into him and Louis reveled in it until he pulled away with a small kiss to the corner of Harry's lips and a gentle smile. 

Harry’s age was showing plain on his flushed pale face with the whites of his eyes gleaming in dazed worry. Louis smiled at him, and chuckled lowly, which didn’t wipe the fear off of Harry’s face. 

Louis nosed at his cheek, coming close again until he could brush their lips together. And this time Harry let him lead, less filled with coiled up anxiety and completely pliant under Louis’s slow kisses. Louis had a feeling that the majority of Harry’s repertoire in the kissing department was a bit rougher than Louis had experienced, but that was okay. He wanted to show him something new.

Harry’s tongue tasted like honey and passion fruit juice. He whined against Louis’s with small presses back, licking into Louis’s mouth with more confidence after each sweep of Louis’s tongue. 

Nimble fingers tangled in Louis’s long hair as he pressed his thumb into Harry’s hipbone. He tipped him backwards, just enough that Louis could get a better angle and if he pressed down on Harry’s chest he would probably fall back onto the arm of the couch. 

Louis made a snap decision to wait—to not take Harry into his bedroom or lay him out on his couch—not yet. He pulled away as Harry’s grip on his hair started to strengthen. 

Harry had a small pout but his eyes were dilated and wide with awe. His lips were swollen and sinfully rich pink like a ripe fruit that Louis wanted to bite into. 

He used all of the tired, slightly hungover strength left in his body to combat his arousal. He ran a hand through his hair to where it was spiky in the back from being pulled at. “I don’t want to pressure you,” Louis said. “We should just hang out.” Louis pulled at where his trousers were feeling tight and he was overheating in his sweatshirt. “We can order pizza! Do you want to order pizza?” He picked up the TV remote and faced it with his whole body. 

Harry put a hand on Louis’s thigh, his voice shaking to say, “We just ate.” 

Louis glanced over to where Harry looked near flames, actively trying to force calmness into his face. 

Louis shot up, moving to the cabinet under his TV. “Do you want to watch a movie? Or I have an Xbox. We can do something else.”

Harry came to stand behind him, and hot breath washed over Louis’s neck. “I don't want to do something else.” Louis felt naked with Harry so close, pushing him. He felt out of control, which wasn’t something he was accustomed to.

Louis turned around, chewing on his lip like he was the teenager, and sais, “You’re eighteen.” He didn’t know if he was saying  _ Yes, you’re eighteen _ or  _ You’re only eighteen _ . 

Harry laughed with Louis’s hand in his. “Is that a question? Because, yes, I’m eighteen. I’ve been eighteen for a while now and I plan to stay that way until, of course, I turn nineteen.” Harry had picked up on Louis’s hesitance toward his attraction. 

“Alright…” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand to ease his anxiety and he was already going back on his decision not to lay Harry out on his bed and repeat their drunken club encounter in the right way. “Do you want to see my bedroom?” As soon as his words were floating in between them, he regretted them—not because he thought Harry would say no, but because he thought Harry would say  _ yes _ . 

Harry nodded with a small smile that made Louis want to grab him by the hips and push him up against the countertop. 

Louis let out a small sigh because  _ he’s doing this _ . And he already felt in too deep, and he was aching with how much he wanted to touch him, but he was scared that something would snap or, even worse, that nothing would go wrong at all. 

The hallway to his bedroom was long, and he lead Harry the whole way with his hand trailing behind him, glancing back whenever he felt fear start to grip his heart. But Harry was smiling brightly and nodding encouragingly.

He let Harry step inside first, examining the walls awash with sunlight and the off-white bedsheets. Louis shut the door behind him and decided that he wasn’t going to waffle between  _ yes _ and  _ no _ . He was in this, and he was going to do it right. 

Louis stepped up to where Harry was staring at the abstract painting in blues and greens above his bed and gripped his hips. Harry’s pants fell loose and low, his polo bunched up enough to leave a gap over his tanned skin revealing his tummy. His shirt was ridiculously tight, straining over his chest, and looked as if it should have the collar popped like in an 80s movie. Louis trailed his hands down Harry’s thin arms. His hot breath made goosebumps sprout on Harry’s neck. 

“Louis, I—” Harry stopped to revel in the soft kisses planted along his neck. 

Louis continued up to his ear, and whispered, “What?” 

“Nothing, I just—” Louis took his earlobe between his teeth, playfully gnawing. Harry let out a strained sound, and said, “I can’t think when you’re doing that.” 

“Don’t, then.” Louis slipped a sure hand under the hem of Harry’s polo. 

Harry let out a short grunt as Louis slipped his other hand below the baggy waistband of his jeans.

“You feel so good,” Louis said, eliciting a long whine from Harry. 

Louis could feel where Harry was minutely rocking backwards into his crotch. He must’ve been able to feel where Louis was stiffening in his sweatpants. And Harry was rock hard. Louis could feel where he was pulsing, below his jeans, above his briefs. His other hand was feeling up Harry’s soft tummy, and groping for his nipples. 

Louis drew his hand out of Harry’s pants. “Wanna get on the bed for me, baby?” 

Harry crawled up onto the silky sheets in front of him. Dazed, he turned until he was on his back, and Louis crawled up between his legs. 

Louis noticed Harry’s pupils blown wide, as he went in for a deep kiss with his hand guiding Harry’s jaw. Harry followed his every move with fervor, but without anticipation, his pilant movements seeming drugged. 

Louis looped his fingers around each of Harry’s ankles and jerked them down until Louis was at a better angle. Their hips aligned, Harry humping up into the air to no avail until Louis met him. He kissed Harry into the bed, pressing his hips hard against his. “Can you feel me?” 

Harry’s eyes were glazed over, but he nodded earnestly, shallow breaths building in his chest. He couldn’t seem to muster up any words, but he was making the prettiest little high pitched whines and drawn out moans as Louis pushed against him in slow beats. 

He wrapped his limbs tightly around Louis until he was hanging on like a monkey to a branch, desperately rocking his hips up. The apples of his cheeks were flushed dark, and his eyes were focused on Louis now, only Louis. 

Harry started jerking his hips up faster, building speed even as Louis stopped helping him. Louis got a hand behind Harry’s head, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Even under the weight of Louis’s body, Harry was still humping up desperately. 

As Louis drew back, Harry cried out into Louis’s ear. “I’m—” Louis felt where Harry’s muscles tensed beneath him and his body jerked and shook. His mouth dropped open just slightly, eyebrows knit together as he let out the prettiest little whimper. 

Still raging hard in his own pants, Louis just pet back Harry’s curls and lay him softly into the bed. Louis was only slightly disappointed because that wasn’t exactly what he had imagined, but he loved watching it all on his face.

Louis was going in to kiss the apple of Harry’s cheek when his eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry,” Harry said in the prettiest sing-song, without a hint of actual apology. 

“It’s ok, love,” Louis said, twirling a bouncy curl. 

Harry flushed and turned his head into the bed, mumbling, “I can go again in a little while.” 

Despite the nagging in Louis’s head and dick that made him want to see if he could make Harry come again right now, he said, “No, not a problem. No big deal.”

Louis felt a sneaky hand press up on his cock, and he let out a surprised, “Umph.” 

Harry peeked out of sleepy eyes, “Didn’t think I forgot about you, did you?” Harry leaned up and pressed Louis’s shoulders down so quickly that Louis’s head spun. He jumped on top of Louis and had his pants down in a matter of seconds. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Louis tried to slow Harry down, petting back his hair from where he was reaching for Louis’s hard cock. 

Harry looked up with apologetic, confused eyes. Louis didn’t want to stifle his spirit, and he did really want to get off so he gave Harry a small nod. Harry moved only slightly slower, going at Louis’s cock with a tight dry hand at the base and firm sucks at the tip. 

Louis laughed, a little pained, and wrenched Harry’s hand off his dick. Harry sat back on his haunches, actually pouting. Louis stretched up to his nightstand and pulled a small bottle of lube out of the first drawer. 

“If you’re gonna do that, use this please.” Harry seemed a little miffed, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He looked like a petulant toddler. 

“Oh, c’mon now.” Louis grabbed the lube, squirting a bit onto his hand. He wiped a little on the tip of his cock and then spread it down, trying not to flick his wrist. He sat up and spread the remainder on Harry’s chest, making him giggle reluctantly. 

“Ewwww,” Harry whined, falling closer to Louis’s lips. Louis gave him a quick kiss and then guided his hand back to Louis’s cock. 

Harry leaned over Louis, sticking his tongue out adorably in concentration, trying to move slowly, to add finesse. Louis wanted so badly to teach him, to show him, to let him explore.

Louis laid back, shoving a pillow behind his head so he could watch Harry. Louis had already been painfully hard when Harry came, so he imagined it wouldn’t take long to bring him to the edge again. 

Harry tried to take too much in and gagged. He looked up apologetically. Louis reached down to pet his hair, “‘S ok, you’re doing a good job.” 

Once Louis could see it was Harry, and not just a rush of sexual energy working him over, it became even harder to hold back. Harry’s blushed cheeks, Harry’s reddened lips taking Louis inside his mouth, Harry’s sparkly eyes catching the light. He got his tongue flat against the vein on the underside of Louis’s cock and licked up slowly. Louis struggled to catch his breath. 

“Harry, babe, I’m gonna—” He moved his hand quicker, twisting on the upstroke, lathing the tip like it was a fucking lollipop. Louis couldn’t hold back anymore. His stomach muscles clenched, and he came right into Harry’s mouth and all over his face.  

Harry pulled his face away, looking surprised and delighted. He slithered up Louis in an all too familiar way, kissing his jaw, his cheek, then passing him his own sticky load in a wet kiss.

Harry couldn’t help but erupt into laughter, and Louis sat up, grabbing his waist. “What? What is it?” Louis used his finger to prod Harry’s sides with tickles. “What?” He flipped them over, straddling Harry as he laughed on his back. He lapped at Harry’s smiling face, licking white dots off his dimples. 

Harry’s giggles subsided enough for him to say, “You love come, don’t you?” Louis shrugged, with tickle hands at the ready. “Do you remember that last night?” 

Louis thought back to the few memories that had returned to him from last night, but Harry’s adept snowballing didn’t ring a bell. He shook his head. 

“Here.” Harry pointed to his own jaw. “Here.” His cheek. “And Here” His lips. “You did the same thing to me.” 

Louis prodded at his sides again, getting Harry to let out sparkly laughs. “You’re learning! You’ve learned so much.”

“Mmmm, teach me.” Harry hummed, settling back into the pillows. 

“Gladly.” Louis pecked a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, and his mouth before scooting down to lay his head on Harry’s stomach. 

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Harry said, “I really am mature, it just that my body… isn’t. It’s a bit behind, but I’m mature. I swear I am.” 

Louis brushed his nose against the silky smooth skin next to Harry’s belly button, chuckling, “No, you’re not. You’re eighteen.”

Harry huffed, and Louis moved back up to Harry to look him in the eye, but Harry was looking at the ceiling. “You’re a mature eighteen, huh?” Harry’s eyes wandered closer, but he didn’t turn to look at Louis. “Well, I’m an immature twenty eight so I guess we’re both somewhere in the middle.”

Harry turned his head, smiling, and went in for a sweet kiss. Louis savored the taste of Harry’s lips. They spent the next several moments exchanging languid kisses and meaningful stares.

Or so Louis thought. 

Out of nowhere, Harry got up and started looking for his clothes, saying, “I should get going.” 

Louis pulled on his wrist, desperately wanting him to stay. “What?” 

Harry hesitated, hands around his polo. “I thought… you would want me to go.” 

Louis briefly considered making this a short affair—a one time thing. But it made him feel sick and panicked so he said, “I want you to stay.” He ran his knuckles along Harry’s spine. “I didn’t invite you over to have sex. Well, I did, but not just that.” 

Harry turned around, looking like he still hadn’t accepted that Louis didn’t just want to fuck him. 

“Stay,” Louis urged. 

Harry’s face cracked into a wide grin, and he bounced back onto the bed beside Louis. 

They cleaned up and Louis lent Harry a pair of shorts and a baggy tank top. Louis couldn’t stop staring at Harry’s lips, wrapped around strawberry after juicy strawberry as he watched the food network halfway in Louis’s lap. 

All too soon, Harry received a call from his father demanding he come home for dinner. Louis left him with the longest goodbye kiss he’d ever given. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/) and reblog the [fic post](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/post/176519845870/the-shape-im-in-by-poweredbylouis-explicit-30k) if you like


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis takes Harry to yoga

 

Harry bounced through the courtyard on the way into the office on Monday morning, not worrying about the dewy grass sticking to his loafers. He was beyond excited to see Louis. They hadn’t seen each other yesterday, and Harry was itching to touch him again. 

All he could think about yesterday was Louis’s plush lips and his strong hands on Harry’s waist. Running his hands through his soft hair. A little bit of scruff scratching his cheeks. 

That was, until Elizabeth snapped her fingers in front of his face. Harry had just stepped into their area and he was already getting snapped at. “What are you doing?” 

“Uh…” Harry glanced at his empty desk. “Training?”

“You haven’t finished it yet? I thought you had.” 

Harry fidgeted with his bottom lip, and pointed to Zayn’s empty desk. “Zayn had, but I haven’t.” 

“You’ll come and do it upstairs then.” She swooped up her papers and started toward the elevators. “I’ve got to finish my program in the executive suite.”  _ Executive suite? With Louis?  _

Harry raised his eyebrows and darted off after her. 

After an uncomfortably long silence up to the twelfth floor, Elizabeth set him up in a small meeting room with translucent glass walls and an all-day order to get as far in his training as possible. 

The room had a huge window in the back that looked out over the whole city just like the windows in the lobby where he had met Louis. He could see the gathered treetops of a wooded park, cars whizzing by, and the rooftops of a dozen more Mallow buildings to the South. Sunbeams that made their way down through the clouds made the miniature moving figures glow and the pavement sparkle. 

Harry sat back, spread his feet out onto the chair next to him, and unlocked his phone while his computer was still starting up.

No messages from Louis. Harry frowned. When he woke up, he had a very cute goodmorning message surrounded by a load of sun and star emojis. Harry had sent him back a garden of flower emojis. 

He tapped in his username and password and pulled up his training while his thumbs danced around a message to Louis. 

Grey typing bubbles popped up on the other side of the screen. Harry almost fell out of his chair. 

_ Come see me.  _

Harry’s head spun with white hot excitement burning at the top of his spine. He clutched his laptop like it was a secret note and tiptoed across the hall. The door to Louis’s office was standing open. 

The official door placard faced Harry like a challenge— _ Louis Tomlinson, Chief Quality Assurance Officer _ . Like Harry was too young and gangly and inexperienced for Louis. Like Louis wouldn’t want to keep him around. 

But Louis had asked him to come. So Harry pushed the door open. 

Louis looked up from his computer with an apple core clenched between his teeth. 

“Hey,” Harry offered quietly. 

Louis crunched the apple bit between his teeth with a smug smile, jaw flexing. He shut his laptop and ushered Harry in. “Get the door, will you?” 

Harry stood awkwardly in front of Louis’s desk like he was asking a strict teacher for a better grade. Louis walked around to face Harry, eyeing him from head to toe. Louis himself was wearing a soft-looking grey textured suit with a side-stripe black tie. He had a pretty little gold  _ Mallow _ pin on his lapel. Harry was dying to touch him. 

“How’s your day?” Louis asked, with a soft hand on Harry’s padded shoulder. 

“Just got in.” Harry felt short of breath as Louis’s enchanting eyes bore into him. 

Louis scoffed in the back of his throat, startling Harry’s fixation on his lips. “Lucky.” He ran his hand down Harry’s lapel, ending with a gentle prod to his stomach. “I already had a board meeting.” 

Every word Harry knew had flown out of his head. All he could think to respond with was  _ kiss me _ . 

Louis let out a small chuckle. He grabbed Harry by both lapels and pulled him in for a breathtaking kiss. 

His lips were softer than Harry remembered, and his scruff was rougher on Harry’s delicate cheeks. The dense breath of it all made Harry feel heady. 

Louis pulled away, leaving Harry poised for more. Instead of giving him what he wanted, Louis landed a few playful smacks to his jaw. “Wakey, wakey.” Louis grinned as Harry opened his eyes, moving from one trance into another as he caught Louis’s gaze. 

“You brought your laptop?” Louis flicked the plastic casing. 

Harry nodded mindlessly. 

“Work at my desk,” Louis offered, gesturing to his wide wooden desk adorned with expensive-looking equipment and desk ornaments. 

“You sure?” 

Louis nodded, squeezing his arm. “I’ve got some more meetings. Just keep the door closed when I’m gone.” 

By the time Harry’s training videos were playing through Louis’s headphones on his gigantic monitor, Harry’s head felt a tiny bit clearer. Louis kicked up on one of the arm chairs opposite of the desk. 

Harry wanted desperately to sneak a glance at Louis. They were in that awkward position of facing each other but working on separate tasks. Were they not supposed to talk? Or look? Harry really wanted to look. 

He ventured a glimpse between training clips. Louis was chewing on a translucent pen cap and marking up a stack of papers. His hair was swept back on the sides and styled up tall today. It didn’t look gelled up, though. Harry wanted to see how it felt between his fingers. 

Before he could stop himself, he looked up again with hooded eyes to find Louis staring at him with a small smile. He looked so powerful in his quilted leather chair. Harry should be over there and Louis should be at his desk, arms outstretched on the dark wood, delivering solemn news with jaded eyes. Or better yet, leaning back against the desk, unbuttoning his jacket… 

Louis was motioning for him to take off the headphones. Harry scrambled to get them off. 

“Distracted?” Louis waggled his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head in instant denial. 

Louis put his papers down on the edge of the desk and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’ve got a quick meeting downstairs. Stay here, will you?”

Harry nodded quickly. 

“Can I take you to lunch when I get back?” 

Harry glanced at the time—already 11:30. He nodded with slow blinks. 

Louis rounded the desk, leaned down to give Harry a chaste goodbye kiss, and then he was gone before Harry floated back to earth. 

In the 35 minutes that Louis was gone, Harry made a large dent in his training. But if anyone had asked him what kind of information was confidential Harry would have described the tan skin tight over Louis’s stomach muscles jumping as he came. 

When Louis came back, he was more somber. He ushered Harry out of his office and into an elevator to basement level. He had his hands tucked behind his back the entire time and barely said a word. 

After seemingly walking all the way across campus, they reached a small two-tiered cafeteria. There, Louis relaxed a little. He guided Harry around with little touches to his elbow and the small of his back, staying with him while he gathered items from here and there. A container of strawberries. 

Louis payed for the both of them and bantered with the man at the register. Then he guided them up to a table in the corner of the second level. “Best view in the place.” 

The view was similar—albeit lower—than the view from the room Elizabeth had placed him in that morning, except there were no more Mallow buildings. It seemed they had crossed all the way to the South corner of the Mallow campus. 

“Where are we?”

Louis wiped his mouth with a crinkled paper napkin. The sun reflected off his Rolex. “We’re in manufacturing.” He tapped a warning plaque on the wall that read  _ No Lab Chemicals In The Cafeteria _ . “I like coming up here to get away sometimes. Anywhere near twelve, there’s eyes on my back. It’s not like that here.” 

Harry mulled over that with strawberry seeds between his teeth. 

An executive bringing an intern all the way across campus to his hideaway lunch spot. Was he really showing this to Harry to be sweet? Was he just hiding them away? Not just hiding himself, but hiding Harry, too?

Louis watched him as he stabbed the ripe red skin and popped another half berry into his mouth. 

“What makes you like strawberries so much?”

Harry hummed and shrugged around a juicy piece. “Don’t they have the best flavor?” He stabbed a sliver and offered it to Louis. 

Louis lathed over it with his tongue, turned it over in his mouth. He felt the smoother white underside and the sweet seeded outside. 

“They’re sweet but not like candy. It’s natural. They don’t have any bothersome pits. They’re appropriate for any time of day.”

Louis swallowed. “Do you like strawberry flavored things?” 

Harry nodded. “Anything. Ice cream. Cakes. Candy. Soda. Strawberry’s better replicated than banana or grape.” 

Louis agreed, reaching for another berry. They both chewed along, jaws flexing and Adam’s apples bobbing to the rhythm of the sweet berries. 

“I got some strawberries yesterday at the farmer’s market,” Louis said.

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s eyes lit up. “Any good?” 

Louis hummed over his tea. “Maybe you could be the first to try, the strawberry expert you are.” 

Harry couldn’t contain his smile, like it was etched across his face with a little suggestive eye, a little smirk, and a lot of dimple. “I’d love to.” 

“Tomorrow after work? Do you like yoga?” 

They made plans to go to Louis’s hot yoga studio after work. Harry may have played up his yoga knowledge, but Louis told him to drink lots of water and they’d get stuffed on strawberries after. 

When Louis was finished eating, he leaned forward heavily, lowering his voice, “I have to ask you to do something for me.” 

Harry’s head spun. He didn’t know if he was in a crime drama or a romantic comedy, but something didn’t sit right with this kind of whispering. 

But Louis took his hand and touched his shiny brogue to Harry’s bare ankle and said, “I don’t think it’s wise to tell people about this—about what we’ve done or what we’re doing. It wouldn’t be good for us right now.” 

Harry found himself nodding, “Of course.”

Louis thought of them as  _ something _ not to tell people about. They were  _ something _ . Harry’s thoughts divorced all ideas of Louis using him or stringing him along. This was  _ something _ . Louis wanted  _ something _ . 

Louis’s hand was hot on his. “Especially Zayn Malik.” Harry nodded. “Mr. Malik is my boss. I don’t know if he’d like this very much.” 

“Yeah, I understand.” Of course he couldn’t tell Zayn. 

“It’s for the best,” Louis chanted. 

“Yeah, it’s for the best,” Harry repeated. 

On their way back to twelve, Louis kissed him in the elevator, and it made Harry’s heart leap. 

Things started to soften up throughout the rest of the day. Despite having not really talked through anything, they had at least gotten on the same page about what they were saying to people and that they were actually  _ something _ . Harry’s stomach did an excited flip at the thought of Louis thinking of them as  _ something _ because he had been absolutely sure more than once that Louis was just out for him to get in his pants. Harry wasn’t entirely put off by that idea, but despite Zayn egging him on to finally get fucked, there was something in the back of his mind that didn’t want to go the casual sex route—now or ever. 

Louis let him hang around his office for the rest of the day, and even though it was secluded Harry liked that he let him into his work space. Harry took the couch after lunch, and got dramatically frustrated with the actors in his workplace safety training videos. “It looks like a bad infomercial, Louis.” 

“I’ll make sure to let Soph know she needs to budget for better actors next time.” 

Louis stood behind where Harry was propped up on the arm of the couch, looking over his shoulder at the privacy videos which Harry found quite ironic. 

Harry popped one of his earbuds out and pointed at the brunette guy throwing his hands up in the air as he delivered deadpan lines, “That one’s especially horrible.” 

“Oh yeah?” Louis sunk down with his chin resting on his hands folded over the arm of the couch. 

Harry carefully placed his discarded earbud in Louis’s ear. Louis nodded and yawned a small thanks.

Louis’s cologne settled in a wave over Harry, making his head feel funny, filled with sweet citrus and buttery nutty scents. He wanted to turn his nose just enough that it brushed the vein in Louis’s neck. He was that close, almost curled into Harry. Harry wanted so badly to be curled up together. 

Louis chuckled something but Harry didn’t catch it over the training and the loud pounding of his heart in his head. 

Breathlessly, he asked, “What?” 

Louis turned his head just enough that they were nose to nose, and jumped, startled at their proximity at first because he thought Harry had been watching the video, not him. A soft smile broke over his face, and then he planted the softest kiss on the tip Harry’s nose. Harry definitely liked cuddly, half-sleepy Louis. 

“If you finish this up, I’ll give you a proper kiss goodbye.” 

Harry finished two videos later, and Louis gave him three proper kisses goodbye with lingering hands. It left him breathless, feeling Louis’s strong body pressing him against the door, the slow slide of his tongue across Harry’s lip. 

Louis had to tell him four times that he couldn’t compromise his plans tonight. Harry returned to his Elizabeth-designated alcove glassy-eyed. She picked him up an hour later without any suspicion.

———————————————————

Harry looked sick when Louis picked him up from a corner coffee shop a couple blocks off campus the next afternoon. He was wringing his suit jacket like a wet towel between his hands. 

Louis rolled the window down as he approached, lowering his aviators to eye Harry as he pulled the door open. He gave Harry a, “What’s up?” to be casual enough not to imply that he looked like he was about to puke. 

“Good,” Harry replied.

Louis didn’t know if he should laugh or ask what’s wrong. “Still up for yoga?” he asked, patting Harry’s thigh. 

Harry nodded, tight lipped, looking straight ahead at the dashboard. 

“Ok, what’s going on?” Louis relented. Either he had no patience (likely) or he really wanted to know what was going on with Harry. 

Harry’s truths poured out at a mile a minute, “I’ve never been to yoga before. I lied. Once I did Youtube yoga, but I think I did it wrong because my back hurt real bad after. And Gemma does it sometimes, but I’ve never gone with her. I’ve really wanted to try, but I’ve never really done it before. I’m so sorry. I—” 

“Who’s Gemma?” Louis asked, squeezing Harry’s forearm.

Harry turned toward him, voice cleared of anxiety as he said, “My older sister.”

Louis kept his hand covering Harry’s as he pulled the car back onto the road. “Yeah? Is she nice? Do you get along?” 

“Mmmm, yeah. We bicker sometimes, but it’s good. She’s really nice.” 

Louis smiled over at him, slipping up from his patent shining seductive smile to one that was bigger and slightly more lopsided. “Sounds like you.” 

Harry smiled and prattled on about Gemma for the rest of the car ride. He laced his fingers through Louis’s right hand and Louis very adeptly didn’t crash the car because Harry was playing with his fingers and looking happy again, which he liked very much. 

But when they arrived at the studio, Harry froze, remembering his lack of yoga expertise.

Louis killed the engine, and leaned over to crowd out Harry’s anxiety with several kisses on his cheek. “This is an easy class.”

Harry shot him a doubtful look. 

“Promise,” Louis pleaded, holding Harry’s hand against his chest. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I want to share this with you.”

Harry’s anxious exterior broke away, and he gave Louis a sweet look, as if to say,  _ Really? With me? _

“Remember, I have a lot of strawberries for you at home.” Harry’s eyes widened, remembering his fruity promise. Louis turned on the mournful look. “I really wanted to share those with you, too, but I guess I can just take you back—” 

“Ok, fine, fine,” Harry relented, pawing at Louis’s arm. “Just—” Harry paused with his hands tangled up with Louis’s, leaning in close enough to brush their noses together. He bobbed in a few times like he was going to go in for the kiss, but he kept pulling back. “Can—?” 

Louis surged forward, connecting their lips with surprising force. Harry pushed back at him with the same intensity until they were wrapped around each other like ribbons on a maypole. Harry tasted so sweet, and as his supple lips parted for Louis, he thought he was going to lose his mind. When Harry nudged his knuckles under Louis’s suit jacket, Louis pulled away, forcing himself to unstick his hands from Harry’s body. “God, I wanted to do that all day.” 

“I missed you,” Harry panted, trying to get his arms around Louis’s waist again. 

Louis caught his hands, pushing them back. “Ok, we can do this later, right? Later is good.” Louis knew he was saying that for himself just as much as for Harry. 

A snuffed whine breached Harry’s throat long enough for Louis to want to say fuck the yoga, but Harry gathered himself and got out of the car so Louis did the same. 

The thing was that Harry was not expecting Louis to strip off his suit in the locker room right in front of Harry and pull on the tightest pair of cropped aqua yoga pants Harry had ever seen. They made Louis’s ass look like a miracle. 

From that point on, things went downhill. They somehow came to the conclusion that Louis should sit in front of Harry because Harry didn’t know a thing about yoga, but that quickly backfired when they were in cat cow pose and Louis’s amazing ass was staring him right in the face. 

Harry’s own yoga uptake was slow and not without bumps. The instructor seemed to come around to their side to compliment Louis and correct Harry. His foot kept falling down and he couldn’t keep his balance in the tree pose. Louis didn’t even lose his balance when he peeked back around to see how Harry was doing. All the while Harry was fighting his urge to give up altogether. 

He was really fighting it when they did a plank 45 minutes into the class. Harry felt like he’d never planked before. His abs and biceps were shaking and there was hot drippy sweat falling off of his forehead. He hadn’t anticipated working this much or this hot for yoga. Toward the end, every fibre of his muscle was boiling and not in a sexy way.  

They finished in the corpse pose, the instructor eventually telling them to rise and exit when they felt that they had found peace. When Harry opened his eyes, Louis was crouching down next to him in his bright pants with a grin on his face. 

“You made it!” he chirped. 

Harry grunted and winced at the developing soreness in his abs as he pulled himself upright. 

Louis looked incandescently happy that Harry had made it through the whole thing, and it made him a little proud of himself. The begrudging high achiever in him wanted to come back and nail that tree pose and make Louis  _ really _ proud. 

Harry ran his finger through his hair, trying to pull himself together even a tiny bit. “Don’t look at me. I feel like death.” 

Louis rocked forward on the balls of his feed to plant a little kiss on Harry’s slick forehead, immediately pulling away with a sour look on his face. “Yuck.” He pulled up on the fabric of his tank to wipe his mouth, revealing the tanned skin of his stomach that Harry wanted to lick, sweaty or not. 

Louis took a swig from his water bottle and passed it to Harry, saying, “Do you mind riding back to mine before we shower?”

Harry shook his head as he handed the water bottle back over. 

“Great.” 

Louis’s energy didn’t fade as they made it out to his car, to his complex, and up to his apartment. 

But once they reached the landing, he seemed to settle back into the heavy demeanor he used when he brought Harry to bed last weekend. It was slower and more deliberate than bouncy Louis had been on the way over. He had a steadying hand on Harry’s arm, guiding him in. It had an aloofness about it that brewed controlling. It reminded Harry of pulling marionette strings. Louis guided the situation wherever he wanted it to go. He must use this face at work.

With anyone else, Harry would be put off. Controlling the situation speaks malice for most in his eyes, but Harry never had any doubt that Louis was on his side. He wanted things and he was going to get them, but it wasn’t at Harry’s expense. 

Louis placed a heavy kiss on Harry’s forehead now only slightly sticky with sweat, and he ran his hands up Harry’s arms, taking his bags off his shoulder with ease. “You want to shower?”

Harry nodded and darted off to the ensuite before Louis could tell him where it was because  _ he knew _ . He felt the pride of a little kid in his chest just for having made it back to Louis’s home twice. Louis must like him a lot.

He stripped off his sweaty clothes, and went straight into the shower. The cold water hit first and he shied away but it stripped off some of the heat he had been feeling from the hot weather, the hot yoga studio, and the really hot guy that had been stealing glances at him and squeezing his thigh in the car. As it warmed up, Harry could feel his muscles soothe. He breathed in the steam and he could feel tension draining at the back of his neck. 

He cleaned up, scrubbing off the work day, the yoga class, and anything that wasn’t important for the next few hours because he wanted to be completely focused on the present. He squeezed out a smidge of Louis’s sharp smelling conditioner after he had worked Louis’s shampoo deep into his curls. 

He even got a soapy hand around to his bum and paid some attention around his opening.  _ Just in case _ . But the feeling of anticipation and hopefulness that rose up in his belly was almost too much. He started chubbing up and considered getting off so he wouldn’t come too soon if Louis took him to bed again.  _ Please _ . But it didn’t feel right when he wrapped a hand around himself. It was too clunky, too cold. It wasn’t  _ Louis’s _ hand. Louis’s  _ mouth _ . 

When he got out, he toweled himself off and rubbed a circle in the mirror to see his reflection. He scrubbed a pruny finger over the surface of his two front teeth until it squeaked. His hair was falling wet and clumpy around his face. He pulled it back, shook it out. How would Louis like it? He shook it over the sink until droplets covered the mirror, and flipped his fringe back over his forehead. It didn’t quite fall how he wanted it, but it was good enough. 

When he swung the door open, Louis was sitting on the bed with his iPad. 

He got up, and switched places with Harry. “Let me rinse off real quick and then I’ll grab the strawberries.” His fingertips brushed Harry’s bare hip where the towel was falling, leaving a trail of shivers. 

“Alrighty,” Harry flopped back down onto the bed as the door closed. 

“Don’t get into the strawberries!” Louis shouted from inside the en suite. 

Harry wiggled his toes, then his hips long enough for the towel to slide off. And then he was naked.  _ Oops _ . 

He tiptoed into the kitchen as the shower started running. Inside the fridge sitting like a golden trophy was a large lucite bowl full of strawberries. Harry had never seen so many deep red, large juicy strawberries outside of a grocery store before. 

Harry had one in his mouth before he could stop himself. “Oh my god,” Harry moaned around a bite, “these are amazing.” 

He took them back to bed with him, cradling the bowl. 

When Louis emerged, he was lounging naked on the bed watching the discovery channel with strawberry seeds in his teeth. 

“Aye!” Louis shouted at him. “Didn’t I tell you not to get into these?” 

Harry flipped onto his back, sweeping his tongue over the fresh juicy unpierced flesh. He propped his head up with an arm, and looked right into Louis’s eyes as he bit into the tip of the berry, eyes rolling back in his head as he let out a low moan. 

“You menace,” Louis growled, crawling up the bed. Louis grabbed ahold of his wrists and pinned them above his head. 

Harry just let out more obscene sounds that were getting Louis hard with his strawberry red lips dropped open prettily. 

Harry’s towel was crumpled up beneath his hips, and Louis splayed it out beneath his fingers. He nosed up Harry’s chest, breathing deeply against his tanned skin. Harry smelled wonderfully like Louis’s own body wash. Like Harry was  _ his _ . 

It empowered Louis enough to whisper, “So good… just for me.” 

Harry’s breath hitched as Louis’s nose and then lips collided with Harry’s sensitive rosebud nipple. Louis threw his towel off as he made his way up Harry’s body. 

His lips kissed up Harry’s neck in hot presses, and Harry couldn’t stand it. He wanted to kiss Louis  _ now _ . He got his hands under Louis’s elbows and tried to pull him up. 

But it made Louis stay away from his lips longer, threatening to go backwards as he kissed teasingly at Harry’s collarbone and then back up again to his chin… his jaw… his cheek… And then he planted a deep kiss on his lips. 

Harry wrapped his gangly arms around Louis’s back and held him in place as their tongues swept hot against each other. As Harry pressed Louis closer, he could feel where they were brushing together. Louis was hard against his hip, rocking slightly into Harry’s cock. 

Harry wrapped his legs around Louis, too, locking his feet behind Louis’s bum and trying to rut up into Louis’s teasing movements. 

Louis slowed and then stilled. He gave a small peck to the corner of Harry’s lips and pulled back still wrapped in Harry’s embrace. 

“No-no, please,” Harry begged, pressing into Louis’s bum to keep him there. 

And Louis barely had enough self control to deny him, but he pressed away, unwrapping Harry’s arms from behind his neck. 

Harry fell back onto the bed, utterly defeated, and Louis took it as an opportunity to lean back and dip his hand into the bowl of strawberries. 

He held one hand behind his back and stroked Harry’s cheek with the other hand. Harry shivered at Louis’s touch and his eyes flew open when Louis lowered his hips back down onto Harry’s holding them both perfectly still. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

Harry bit his lip and stared at the ceiling like he didn’t want to say something.

“Come on now,” Louis said softly in that half-haughty voice that told Harry he was running the show. “What do you want me to do to you?” 

Harry drew out the silence, avoiding Louis’s eyes even as he tried to wiggle his hips in suggestion. 

“Can’t help you if you don’t say.” Louis leaned down to lick over Harry’s little nipple. He watched Harry’s eyes slip closed. He’d never been with someone whose nippes were as sensitive as Harry’s. He wanted to make him come just by playing with his nipples sometime. 

Louis squeezed a strawberry between his fingers and then raised it to Harry’s chest, rolling it over the tender skin of his nipple. 

Harry’s head shot up, brows furrowed in confusion. He burst into giggles. It was bubbly and uncontrollable and beautiful. 

The mood cracked. It felt like yelling cut in a dramatic play, and suddenly, they were at home with each other, completely at ease. 

Harry grabbed Louis’s wrist and dragged it away from his chest, trying to pluck the strawberry out of Louis’s hand even as he was wrought with laughter. 

Louis abandoned his dirty talk and relented, letting Harry have the berry and he dropped his head onto Harry’s chest, smiling into his skin. When Harry’s giggling stopped, Louis grumbled, “Mood ruiner.” 

Harry scoffed. “I’m still hard,” he said around a bit of strawberry. 

“Well what do you want to do then, dummy?” Louis tucked his fingers under Harry’s stomach, snuggling into his tummy. 

“You weren’t just saying that to practice your sexy voice?” Harry teased with a hand in Louis’s hair. 

“Excuse me.” Louis pouted.

“You sound like Alec Baldwin.” Harry made grabby hands at the bowl of strawberries. 

Louis grabbed him another. “Give it a rest,” Louis tried not to notice how squeaky his voice sounded, which never happened when he was  _ running the show _ . 

Harry was sucking on another strawberry when his head cleared and he remembered that he wanted to get fucked—and that Louis didn’t know that he’d never been fucked before. “Lou,” he said, swallowing the last bit of the fruit. “I know what I want, but I gotta tell you something.” 

“Alright.” Louis ruffled his fringe, and angled his chin up, keeping his arms tight around Harry’s waist. He enjoyed the fresh apple and hint of strawberry scent that was only noticeable now with his nose scraping Harry’s skin. 

“I want you to fuck me.” Harry was surprised how easily that slipped his lips, like he’d had it ready in his mind since the first time he saw Louis on the twelfth floor. “But no one ever has before.” The last part was harder, though. It came out slower and softer, and Harry didn’t even know if Louis heard it at first because he was just frozen. 

Louis’s hands went limp at his sides. His mouth was hanging open, and Harry wondered if the last few minutes had been a dream and if it was quickly turning into a nightmare. 

“No one?” Louis looked at him in disbelief. “Ever?” 

Harry sheepishly shook his head. This was clearly not what Louis had wanted or expected. Harry felt like an imposter, like he had been lying, because he wasn’t the person that Louis thought he was.

Harry tried to shrug it off. “It doesn’t matter, right?” He reached out for Louis’s hand just as thunder cracked loud, and Louis’s hand jerked away. It sounded like it was right above them, but Harry hadn’t even noticed it was storming. 

How could the mood have dropped again just like that? Harry just wanted to go back to when he was so close to rubbing off of Louis’s hip and laugh and forget to tell him anything. Because now Louis was looking at him like he’d forgotten that he ever admired him, and it made Harry want to shrivel up and sink into the ground. 

“I need a minute,” Louis said, pushing off the bed. He was breathing fast and shallow like he was trying to catch his breath. 

“No, please don’t go,” Harry urged, but Louis was pulling on a pair of briefs and out the door to the balcony, rain and all, before he could beg again. 

Harry certainly wanted to die now. Not only would Louis never want him, but if Louis didn’t then who possibly could? He tangled his legs in the sheets, thinking that this was going to be the last time he would get the chance to smell like him and to be in his life like this. 

Seeing Louis pull away—not teasingly, but genuinely leave him in bed—was heartbreaking. Harry didn’t usually get people telling him No, even when he deserved it. With Louis it had been all about the chase, the tease, the playful pleasure up until now. Neither of them had said no to anything. 

It crushed Harry. They were moving forward so well and so quickly that it gave him whiplash to have to stop so suddenly. At least Louis didn’t kick him out. At least he didn’t yell. Harry didn’t think he could take Louis yelling at him. Louis’s voice was made for squeaky indignancy and loud laughter, not for dismissal. Harry shivered, hating the feeling of being on the receiving end of Louis’s dislike. 

He curled into the covers because despite desperately wanting to avoid his own crushing embarrassment, he was hopeful that Louis would come back in and at least talk to him. 

Cool air filtered in from the balcony. Louis was sat outside in the light rain with a cigarette. His fingers were tensed around the base. Bits of concrete debris were sticking to the damp soles of his feet. His boxers were probably inappropriately wet to wear alone on the balcony. He blew out sour smoke and watched it mix with the view of the rain in front of a patch of emerald leaves below. 

The rain was coming down harder now. It felt natural, like a much needed break. A slow exhale. 

Louis put out his cigarette, and walked into the bedroom. He walked straight past Harry who was still wrapped up in his sheets looking on the verge of tears and into the bathroom. 

He grabbed his toothbrush, added a copious amount of Crest and set to getting all of the smoke out of his mouth, scrubbing his tongue the longest. When he finished, he crouched down to the sink cabinet and knocked through every bottle of hotel shampoo, antiseptic, and box of bandaids until he fished out a small pink oblong bottle. Then he grabbed a navy towel from the linen closet and went back into the bedroom. 

Harry sat up, confused and a little teary. 

Louis put the towel and the bottle on the bed, and went for his dresser. He stripped his wet boxers and pulled on some clean grey sweatpants and a mostly clean black muscle tee. 

Harry watched him with glassy eyes. 

Louis sat down on the edge of the bed next to Harry’s mess of sheets bunched up around his waist. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” he said, gently swiping a tear away from Harry’s cheek. 

Harry clasped his hand over Louis’s. “I should have told you. I didn’t know it was so important to you.” 

“I was surprised. I thought you had and I—” Louis brought their hands together in his lap. “I could have hurt you.” 

Harry shook his head adamantly. “No, you wouldn’t.” 

“Harry—” Louis tried.

“Look, it’s not a weird thing for me, and I just—I want to. I want  _ you _ to. I should have been upfront with you about it. I just thought that you wouldn’t be that bothered by it because you wanted me to stay on Sunday.” 

“I don’t mean to be bothered, Harry. I’m sorry. I guess we got our wires crossed.” 

“Yeah, more like  _ tangled _ .” 

Louis chuckled. “I guess I just assumed because,” he laughed breathily, “I feel like I’ve known you.” 

Harry leaned forward until their foreheads pressed together. “Me too.” 

“Good, so I’m not crazy.” 

They both laughed. Louis went in for a chaste kiss. Their breathing mixed together like smoke and the rain, and Harry felt his heart healing.

“My brain just kinda fills in the blanks without asking you. I guess I should ask you.” 

Harry blew out a cool breath. “If you want to,” he hesitated, “get to know me, we could maybe spend some more time together… outside of the bedroom.” 

Louis grinned. “Harold, are you calling me a nympho?” 

“No!” Louis prodded his sides until he started laughing, screaming out, “No! No tickles!” his fingers danced up Harry’s naked sides until he was flat on his back, gasping. 

Louis let him breathe, and he crawled over Harry, looking down at his blissful smile. 

“I like you a lot, Harry,” Louis whispered, stroking Harry’s cheek with the back of his hand. “So, we need to talk about some things.” 

Harry sat up and curled into Louis’s side, perching on his shoulder. “What kinda things?” 

“Well, have you ever gotten tested?”

“Yeah, and I got straight A’s last semester,” Harry mumbled into Louis’s shirt. 

Louis groaned, “Harry.” 

“Ok, yeah but it was a bit ago.” Harry felt his face reddening at this kind of talk. 

“And is there reason to get another one before we do anything?” 

Harry scanned his brain. He couldn’t remember. The past year was a lot. Zayn had gotten them into a good deal of trouble here and there, and he was sure he hadn’t fucked anyone but he wasn’t sure he didn’t need to get tested. “Um, no.” 

Louis looked at him with a dubious expression. 

Harry relented, “Alright, I don’t think so but I’ll get tested anyway.” 

“Good, it’s very important—” 

Harry cut him off with an exasperated, “You’re not going to lecture me, are you?” 

Louis gave him an offended look. “Fine. How about… have you ever fingered yourself?” 

Harry buried his face in Louis’s shirt. “Oh God,” he groaned into Louis’s stomach. 

Louis held his head and ran his fingers through his just-dried silky curls. “C’mon. All the good boys do it. Have you?” 

Something jumped in Harry’s stomach and made him nod his head obediently.

“Have you ever let someone else finger you?” Harry shook his head no. 

“Used toys?” Another shake. 

“So are you the blowjob king then?” 

Harry lifted his head with a sly smirk on his face. “I’m working on it.” 

Louis laughed. He felt bad for throwing lube at him the other day. Harry deserved a gentler touch. Harry deserved the gentlest of everything. 

“I just have one more question.” 

“Ok.” Harry put his face back on Louis’s stomach, face scrunched up in his t-shirt. “Shoot.”

Louis glanced over at the end of the bed to make sure the little bottle and towel were still there. “Can I finger you?” 

Arousal boiled over in Harry’s stomach and zipped right to his cock. He nodded fast, curls bouncing.

Louis lifted his head until he could kiss Harry’s jaw, his cheek, his lips. “You look like a Renaissance cherub with the sheet and all that hair.” 

Harry laid back and posed. “Paint me like one of your french girls.” 

Louis snorted. “Wanna get on your back for me?” 

Harry flopped around on the mattress like a fish out of water until he found a comfy spot while Louis grabbed the towel. 

“Bum up, please.” Harry lifted up, and Louis slid the towel down underneath him. 

“Are you comfortable?” Harry nodded. “Do you want me to talk you through this?” He nodded again. 

Louis stroked his leg, thinking of all the ways he wanted Harry to beg for it before he got his fingers inside of his tight hole.

The rain picked up again, pelting the ceiling and whooshing against the windows. 

Harry stretched out his tense leg muscles, flexed his calf. He looked so strong and so soft spread out on his back in the middle of Louis’s bed. He looked comfortable in a way that Louis didn’t even always feel on this bed alone. 

Louis tugged on the bit of sheet Harry had covered his waist with until it fell away. Harry was pretty much soft after the scene Louis made. Louis carefully wrapped a hand around his cock and watched Harry draw in a slow deep breath. 

He held the air in his lungs as Louis nosed at his belly. Louis liked feeling Harry out with his face. He felt like this was as close as he could possibly get to him. Harry let the breath out in a long moan as Louis scraped his nails down Harry’s side, making his back arch. 

Louis was already looking for relief at the view of Harry like this. He was perfectly spread out all for Louis. His cock was quickly hardening as Louis ran his fingers teasingly up the sides and over the tip. 

“Hey,” Louis said softly, hovering just above his chest. 

Harry’s concentration broke, and his eyes opened. “Yeah?” 

Louis leaned forward and down, just enough to capture Harry’s lips in a hot closed-mouth kiss, while his fingers danced over Harry’s cock. Harry’s cheeks were a shade pinker when he pulled away, and he grinned cheekily, saying, “Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you.” 

Harry smiled, looking a little blissed-out already.

Louis gave Harry’s nipple a rough pinch, in complete contrast to his gentle stroking down below. “Aye!” Harry yelped, but Louis felt his cock jump, now completely hard. 

Louis leaned over him again, far enough that he could see Harry’s eyes watching the ceiling. “Harry,” he whispered. “This might hurt a little.” 

Harry curled his fingers around Louis’s bicep. “I know.” His grip was tight enough that it didn’t assure Louis he wasn’t  _ scared _ that it might hurt. 

“And in the interest of not getting our wires crossed again, I want you to tell me if it does.” 

Harry didn’t let go. “Ok.”

“I also want you to know that I’m not going to fuck you today.” Harry stuck his lip out in an adorable pout. “But I’m dying to.” 

A pained look flashed across Harry’s face and then a little hope. “Why don’t you? I want to, too.” 

“I’m not ready yet.” Harry thought he must be lying. He must have said that for Harry’s sake because he didn’t think Harry was ready or he didn’t want to compromise his record. 

But Harry was way too strung out for Louis and all he wanted was to stay pressed close together. In this moment, it was absolutely fine if Louis said that because he really didn’t want Harry to get too attached or or because he didn’t believe in Harry, because it meant that he would fill Harry up with his fingers in a matter of minutes. 

“Soon, though, ok? Whenever we’re both ready.” Harry wanted to make him promise to stay. 

Louis nodded, trailing kisses back down his chest and stomach. Louis’s eyes were hidden, and Harry almost liked it better that way. He didn’t want to see if he was being lied to. 

Harry laid back and shut his eyes tight, trying to quell the sting he still felt from Louis dismissing him. He could feel the emotions bubbling over in his chest, but he didn’t want to feel it. All he wanted to feel was—“Ah,” Harry let out a subdued yelp as he felt Louis’s fingers on him. It wasn’t even close to where he wanted them, though. Louis was tracing shapes on the crease of his thigh, still playing with his cock in one hand. 

“Shhhh…” Louis splayed his fingers out over Harry’s stomach, pushing down to keep him anchored. “Relax for me.” 

Harry took a long deep breath in, and it came out shaky on the exhale as Louis moved one  finger down his shaft. He continued the movement down, down across his balls, and down further until the soft pad of his finger brushed the soft puckered skin of Harry’s hole. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. 

Louis used his other hand to push Harry’s thighs further apart. He kept his finger there, rubbing gently, careful not to push. He watched Harry’s eyebrows pulled together tight, and his fingers twisting together over his stomach. 

Louis removed his finger, and rested his hands over Harry’s thighs. “Are you nervous?” he asked matter of factly. 

Harry gave him a timid nod from where he was peering down his body to Louis. He was trying to keep a calm demeanor, but he was burning up with desire for Louis. “I wish you could be up here.” Harry gestured to his side. 

“Oh,” Louis stroked his stubble. “I can.” He grabbed the bottle of lube and crawled up the bed to lay at Harry’s side. “This better?” Harry nodded with a small smile. He still looked nervous, but he was comforted by Louis’s closeness. 

Louis leaned in for a quick kiss, but Harry wanted more. Louis kissed him until his head was fuzzy. He couldn’t think, but he could feel soft hands pressing into his hip, pulling gently at his cock. Harry moaned into the kiss, and all Louis could think about was how badly he wanted Harry to do that with his cock down his throat. 

He shivered and brushed the thought off because this was about Harry’s pleasure, not his own.

Louis pulled away for a quick second to dribble some lube on his fingers, and it wasn’t exactly how Louis pictured. The towel wasn’t there when he spilled, and Harry was trying to pull him back into a kiss, but it was perfect anyway because Harry was there. He was pink-cheeked and his hair was soft and a little fuzzy and all he wanted was Louis’s tongue in his mouth and his fingers in his ass and all Louis wanted was to give it to him. 

Louis realized as he stroked a finger below Harry’s balls and he shuddered that he was going to have to kiss Harry through this instead of talking him through it. 

“Up,” Louis said in a moment of breath, patting on Harry’s left thigh. Harry kicked his leg up in the air and Louis felt around. It wasn’t as good of an angle as if he was down between Harry’s legs like before, but this was alright too. “Oh yeah, that’s better,” he whispered against the side of Harry’s neck as Harry watched his arm move. 

Louis spread his slick fingers over his hole, making sure nothing would catch on his precious pink skin. Harry turned his head, with barely enough room for them to breathe the same air. “Careful,” he breathed innocently. 

“Promise,” Louis agreed. “Now breathe in deep and relax for me.” 

Harry drew in a slow breath and waited for the pain. His hand had snaked down, bypassing his cock altogether for what looked to Louis like possible damage control. 

“I’m gonna go ahead now, ok?” Harry nodded, eyes glued to ceiling. “Remember that you’ve done this before, you know what it’s like.” 

Harry remembered poking around at his hole dozens of times in the shower before he worked up the courage to slick up his fingers on his bed. It always hurt just at the beginning. 

Louis pressed gentle lips just below Harry’s earlobe right as he pushed into Harry, right past the tiny ring of muscle. Harry sucked in a tight shallow breath. “Deep breaths,” Louis reminded him. 

At first, Louis was too focused on the little pained noises slipping from Harry’s lips to realize what he was touching. Excitement zipped to his cock. Harry was so tight and so soft inside, like nothing Louis had ever touched. Louis loved the way his hips wriggled, trying to get Louis’s finger to move and how his lips dropped open into a rumbling moan as soon as Louis pushed in another knuckle. 

“So beautiful, baby,” Louis cooed. “So soft.” 

“Oh my god,” Harry whined. Pain flared up at Harry’s rim when Louis moved his finger deeper. He couldn’t bear it. “Stay, stay,” he said, cradling Louis’s hand. He leaned into Louis, and the soft press of their lips made his belly feel warm and his cock swell. 

Louis wanted a better angle. He wanted to be able to crook his fingers just like he knew how or use his other arm to rub over Harry’s belly, but Harry wanted it like this. He wanted slow kisses and hot breath and  _ closeness _ , and Louis knew that it wouldn’t be the best for Harry if he wasn’t getting everything he wanted. 

Louis wanted to get even closer. He wanted to crook his finger and brush up against that spot inside Harry that would him fall apart in his arms. But he couldn’t find the right angle, and Harry’s hand was tight on his wrist. 

“Do you want to stop?” Louis checked. 

“No,” Harry exhaled. “God, no.” 

Louis waited for Harry’s permission to go on, setting soft kisses from his collarbone up to behind his ear, watching the wheels turning in Harry’s head as he stared at the ceiling. 

“Ok,” Harry whispered. His voice was small and squeaky. “You can move now.” 

Louis wiggled his finger around, curling it up. Harry’s breath caught. “Does it feel good?” 

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. “Honestly?” Louis nodded vigorously. “It kinda hurts.” Harry looked sheepish, like he didn’t know if it was ok to tell Louis that he was hurting. 

“It’s ok. I’m gonna need more lube. Can I pull out?”

“Yeah.” Harry clenched his teeth as Louis’s finger dragged out. 

As Louis dribbled a probably excessive amount of lube over his fingers, Harry bit into his bottom lip and then asked with a small laugh, “Ever done this for anyone before?” 

“Honestly?” Harry nodded delicately. “Not like this, but I’m happy to,” Louis capped the lube and settled back against Harry’s side, “for you.” 

Harry turned his head away from Louis for a moment, with his hand covering his eyes. 

“Hazza,” Louis tugged at his shoulder, “we don’t have to—” 

“No,” Harry gasped, a little teary eyed as he turned back to Louis. “I want this so bad. I don’t want to…” Harry examined Louis’s forgiving eyes before revealing, “get  _ emotional _ .” 

Louis smiled at him, all sugary sweet and Harry could still taste strawberries on his tongue. “I like it better with some tears m’self.”

Harry smiled back and then slumped against Louis’s chest, snuggling close. Louis kissed the top of his head. When Harry rolled onto his back, Louis kissed his cheek, and poked the leg Harry was meant to lift up. 

Harry complied, and tensed when Louis moved his hand down between his legs again. 

“Relax,” Louis reminded him, and Harry let his eyes slip closed and released all of the stiffness in his muscles on a large breath. 

Louis pushed in again, this time with more force. His fingers slipped in easily, and Harry yelped at the pressure of  _ two _ fingers filling him up. “Ok?” 

Harry nodded frantically, pulling his leg up further with a hand looped under his thigh. 

Louis noticed how tight he was. He was squeezing Louis’s fingers together so tightly Louis worried they might go numb. “Move?” 

Harry echoed his nod. 

Louis crooked his fingers up, and with Harry holding his leg just so, he was able to hit right on his prostate. 

“Oh my god!” Harry’s back arched, and Louis’s fingers followed with relentless pressure as he trembled. “Holy fuck.” 

Louis eased off when Harry let go of his leg in favor of his cock. 

“No,” Harry whined. “Don’t stop.” 

Louis smirked with one brow arched, the expression he used when he knew he had the power. “Can I try three, please?” 

Harry scoffed, “Only if you let me get off this time, please.” Louis laid a sloppy wet kiss on Harry’s cheek, and Harry wiped at the residue dramatically. 

Louis laid another kiss on Harry, this time right on the lips, and simultaneously bundled three fingers together and pushed slowly at Harry’s rim. Harry let out a long low moan into Louis’s mouth. He didn’t stop until Louis’s fingers bottomed out. 

When Louis didn’t move Harry begged, “Please. My—”

“Your what?” Louis asked lowly.

Harry whined as Louis wiggled his fingers around. He brushed past his prostate again and again, driving Harry’s arousal through the roof. He writhed on Louis’s fingers, sweat shining on his forehead. “Gonna get nice and stretched out for me,” Louis growled in Harry’s ear. “So you can take my cock.” 

Harry shuddered, and he couldn’t hold off anymore. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, straining to hold his leg up. “Louis,  _ there _ . Touch me,  _ please _ .” 

Louis’s fingers flew to Harry’s spot like a magnet, and Harry squirmed. It was almost too intense to bear, and Louis was being merciless. 

Harry’s hand flew over his cock, wet with precome that had dripped down. 

“Such a good boy, Hazza. My good boy.”

Harry sucked in a deep breath and crashed over the edge at those three words,  _ My good boy _ . His cock spurted all over his hand and his belly, mouth hanging open with a loud moan. 

He rocked against Louis’s fingers until he couldn’t take it anymore and whimpered when Louis slid them out. 

Harry’s rose petal eyelids looked heavy, but he propped himself up when he noticed Louis’s hand moving under his trackies. “You look so fucking amazing when you come,” he grunted out. 

Harry blushed, but his hand moved down to his belly. His brain was too fuzzy for full control; he was running on autopilot, and for some reason his autopilot thought it would be a good idea to dip his fingers into his come and offer his hand up to Louis. 

“Fuck.” Louis took his wrist firmly, and sucked three fingers into his mouth. 

He came with a hard thrust into his fist, swallowing around Harry’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Louis echoed with a sigh, falling down next to Harry sideways. 

Harry shifted himself closer until he was wedged up next to Louis’s side. He draped an arm over Louis’s chest as it rose and fell quickly in panting breaths. He found his lips ghosting the shell of Louis’s ear so he teased a light kiss, and said, “Was I good?” 

Louis turned his head and captured Harry in a deep kiss. If they hadn’t  _ just _ come it would have riled Harry up again. Louis was so giving and passionate. It made Harry want to tell him he love this—loved  _ him _ . 

Louis pulled back, but kept his face close, holding their foreheads pressed together. “The best.”

Harry gave a small smile and whispered back, barely a sound, “I want to be good for you.” 

“Stay with me then,” Louis offered up to the ceiling, eyes now closed like he was ready for a nap, completely confident in Harry’s answer. 

Louis’s demeanor made it so easy to reply, “Alright,” and snuggle in beside him. 

Harry waited for the creeping anxiety at  _ what he was supposed to do now _ beat through his mind, but it never came. He didn’t know if agreeing to  _ Stay with me _ was meant to keep him in bed for a few minutes, for the night, or for more. He never felt anything but peace as Louis’s arm curled around his shoulder. Perhaps staying by Louis’s side for more might be nice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/) and reblog the [fic post](http://poweredbynew.tumblr.com/post/176519845870/the-shape-im-in-by-poweredbylouis-explicit-30k) if you like


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